


A Little Bit Lost at Sea

by TheDirtyBirdie-Archive (TheDirtyBirdie), TheStigsWriterCousin



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man - All Media Types, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Mermaids, Anal Sex, Civil War Happened (But Without Peter), Desert Island, Hurt/Comfort, Kidnapping, M/M, Ongoing Roleplay, Oral Sex, Peter is a Mermaid, Rimming, Shipwreck, Tony Has the Arc Reactor Because We Said So, Tony is Iron-Man, Tumblr Roleplay, Underage Sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-25
Updated: 2018-05-10
Packaged: 2019-04-07 23:59:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 100,871
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14092572
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheDirtyBirdie/pseuds/TheDirtyBirdie-Archive, https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheStigsWriterCousin/pseuds/TheStigsWriterCousin
Summary: After Civil War, Tony takes a trip to the Pacific to collect himself. It's going well until he's caught in a storm that his yacht can't handle. He's saved by Peter, a sweet but mysterious young boy and he has to survive on an (almost) uninhabited island until they can find a way to get him home, but when the time comes, they'll face a difficult decision.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is an ongoing RP between TheStigsWriterCousin (thestigsroleplayingcousin) and TheDirtyBirdie (dirtybirdierp) on Tumblr. This first chapter is about a week's worth of back and forth, so hopefully we'll be able to keep that pace, but this IS just a side project for us, so don't get TOO set on that timeline. This isn't planned or pre-written, we have very few plot points we're aiming for, so there's no telling when each chapter will be finished.
> 
> TheDirtybirdie is writing Tony and Stigs is writing Peter. Because this is an RP, the formatting is not that of a normal story, so please bear that in mind as you read. If the POV exchanges are difficult to follow, let us know and we can label them!

To say that Tony is in crisis wouldn’t quite be true.

It’s a fair mistake to make, but for once Tony isn’t spinning out. It would be forgivable if he were, depending on which way you slice it. Pepper is gone, the Avengers are falling apart, the world is falling apart, and Rhodey is broken. He can’t remember the last time he slept through the night without something to knock him out. One might argue that these are the sort of things that would, understandably, drive anyone off the edge. This is what Tony tells himself when he’s feeling particularly charitable. That’s not often.  
  
More frequently, his mind cuts the other way. Pepper left him because he’s a war mongering drunk, the Avengers fell apart because he couldn’t see past his own urgent need to atone, putting the desire to lessen the weight of his own conscience over thinking things through. The world is falling apart because, for the first time in his life, someone trusted him to do something truly good with his genius and it turns out he’s already done more damage to the world than he could undo in a lifetime. Rhodey is broken because he dragged him into a fight that should never have been his to begin with, likely wouldn’t even have happened in the first place if Tony had just been smarter about things.  
  
He brought everything on himself, and it’s hard to be forgiving when it’s not as if it’s something he even deserves.  
  
Well, the aliens are an exception, at least. He’s pretty sure that one isn’t on him. Small mercies.  
  
The point is, for once in his adult life it might actually be a little justified for him to fall apart, but he’s not going to let it happen.  
  
That’s why he’s out here.  
  
He’s not going to let what happened with Ultron happen again, or anything like it. Not ever. S.H.I.E.L.D. is gone and the world is more destabilized every day, he’s played a big role in that and now it’s time to step up and right his wrongs. He’s going to find a way to be better, to protect the world for real, without creating more casualties than he can count. He just needs a minute to breathe. Pull himself together, think through a few ideas he’s been tossing around, very, very thoroughly. He’s learned his lesson.  
  
What better place to clear his mind than here? Miles of ocean stretching out in every direction, no one trying to hand him any more problems to solve, no one to worry when his sleep is erratic at best because there’s no need to keep a schedule. No one to notice when one more drink becomes one too many. Just himself and the horizon.  
  
This, Tony tells himself, is exactly where he needs to be.  
  
It’s early evening and the sun is beginning to set overhead. When he looks up from his spot on a cushioned lounger on the upper deck of the yacht he can just manage to make out the beginnings of the night sky appearing. These days, he sees less the beauty of it and more the terrifying potential. What could be out there, what could be next?  
  
He pours himself another scotch to chase away the anxiety that creeps up his spine at the thought, happily slamming the door shut on the little voice in the back of his mind that reminds him he’s already well past six deep. Downing his drink a little quicker than would be acceptable if anyone were watching, he slumps back into the cushions and waits for his mind to clear. This time, he keeps his eyes on the water.

 

* * *

  
  
Peter digs his toes into the sand, watching the sun set the ocean on fire as it slowly sinks below the horizon. He loves the way the reflection of glowing light reaches out to him over the surface of the water as if it’s calling to him. Some days he wants to follow it.. Just dive right in and swim far, far away.  
  
But he’d already done that and it had cost him everything. Every time he thinks about swimming away he has to remind himself that it won’t fix anything. It won’t bring his family back.  
  
Plus, he loves his island. It’s lush and full of life and in the year or so since he discovered it, he’s yet to explore it all. It’s as much his home as the ocean is, though he sometimes can’t help but feel like he still doesn’t belong either place, no matter how beautiful they may be. After all, can a place really be called home if you’re all alone?  
  
He stands as the sun disappears, staring at the deep blue water, quickly turning black with no moonlight to illuminate the soft waves. Walking down the edge of the water, he can feel the warm breeze on his skin and he thinks how he’s going to miss it. In the next few hours, he’ll have to swim back out into the deep to avoid the oncoming storm, but for now he’ll walk, enjoying the sensation of the weight of his body as his feet sink slightly into the sand.  
  
The last time he’d been caught on the island in a storm, he’d almost been trapped in a cave. He was seeking shelter when the winds and pieces of trees sent rocks from the cliffs above, blocking the majority of the entrance. It took him an entire day to remove enough of the debris to squeeze his lean body through a gap enough to escape back into the open.  
  
Having learned his lesson, Peter steps out into the dark water, shivering as the cold water splashes up onto his chest as he wades deeper, feet leaving the ocean floor as he floats. He lets himself drift with the waves for a few minutes until he’s acclimated and his short, lean legs are replaced by a long, thick tail splashing above the water as he dives forward.  
  
He runs his hands along the soft sand along the bottom of the ocean as he swims out, already able to feel the strength of the currents building. He needs to swim far and deep to avoid getting caught in the storm, but only a few miles from the shore a quiet hum distracts him and even with his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he can’t seem to see where it’s coming from.  
  
Peter swims on his back, staring up at the surface of the water until a light from above catches his eye. He floats toward the surface, like a moth to a flame, until he’s close enough to make out the bottom of the bright, white boat. It’s much smaller than the freighters that he normally sees and he’s intrigued.  
  
He keeps his distance as he peaks his head above the edge of the water, feeling bold in knowing that it’s too dark to be seen. He can't see any movement inside the boat, the inner room illuminated but empty and it takes him a moment of looking to realize that there’s a man sitting out on the deck.  
  
Peter glances down at the water that’s noticeably choppier than it was when he left the island, almost certain that he had enough time for a quick look.. He dives back under the water, quickly swimming over to the back of the boat, peaking his head up just enough to see that nothing had changed.  
  
He pulls himself up a little higher, not quite able to see the man on the deck over the ledge. Denying his curiosity had never been a strong suit of his, he realizes as he pulls himself up onto the small ledge just above the rim of the water, bending his tail underneath his hips to prop himself up. Peering over the edge he can finally see the man up close.  
  
He watches the man’s chest moving up and down as he slept peacefully, a half-empty glass in his hand slung over the side of the plush bed and Peter wonders if he has any idea what’s coming..  
  


* * *

  
Tony wakes up to what he’s quite certain may be the worst hangover of his life. It’s pitch black, save the faint glow of the reactor in his chest, and there’s a thick, aching fog clouding his mind and making his head pound. He tries to sit up, but everything feels off, there’s a sharp, almost chemical smell to the air and the spinning sensation in his head is bad enough that it’s not until he tries to drag himself from the cushions, only to be knocked to the deck by the force of the waves slamming into the side of the boat, that he begins to realize his situation.  
  
The water is viciously cold when it crashes over him, it’s more than enough to shock him into sobriety. When the boat tips dangerously he grips the railings for dear life, heart pounding hard and fast in his chest. His mind is racing, how had this taken him off guard? He’s not positive when he’d last checked the weather patterns, he knows he hasn’t exactly been diligent about keeping track of time, but surely it can’t have been that long. Even if it had been, even while running at minimum capacity, F.R.I.D.A.Y. had been programmed to override the manual control system in case of impending emergency. It makes no sense.  
  
As the boat begins to rock back the other way, Tony pushes the worries to the back of his mind, figuring out the problem won’t do him any good if he doesn’t survive long enough to make sure it doesn’t happen again.  
  
Clutching the rail, he stumbles to his feet, doing his best to contend with the violent rocking of the boat. He manages to half-walk, half drag himself blindly along the side of the boat. He suspects even if there were light it wouldn’t do him much good, he’d barely be able to see through the seemingly unending torrent of water getting in his eyes.  
  
Between the freezing water, adrenaline flooding his body, and the strain of keeping himself relatively upright and onboard he’s shaking by the time he reaches the end of the rail by the saloon entrance. He takes a deep breath, steeling his nerves the best he can and refusing to let panic overtake him, and waits until the boat is just about approaching a point of balance to lunge forward, terrified and determined.  
  
Everything is slippery, but he manages to grab the stair rail just as the boat is thrown so far to the side that Tony’s weight is more on the wall than the stairs.  
  
He stumbles up them as quick as he can, throwing himself through the saloon doors and into the nearest table hard enough to knock the air from his lungs, but he doesn’t stop to catch his breath. Fighting gravity every step of the way, he’s just managed to grab the headrest of one of the control seats, registering the fact that all of his systems seem to have failed as he can’t see a single light on the dash, when a particularly severe wave slams into the boat and he loses his grip.  
  
He hits the deck hard and goes flying, slamming into something, he’s not sure what. It’s near impossible to get his bearings back now that he’s lost them. The spinning in his head is severe, and he doesn’t manage to catch himself before he’s tossed to the opposite side of the saloon, clutching desperately around him but never managing to find purchase.  
  
Scrambling and slipping across the cabin floor, he manages to get hold of something, but it’s not enough.  
  
The boat rocks so far to the side that for one heart stopping moment he’s certain it’s about to capsize, but then it rocks back and he’s so relieved he forgets to compensate for the reversal of gravity and he’s thrown forward.  
  
When he feels the stairs slipping away underneath him, he knows he’s done for.  
  
Even as he fights his way back up, he understands now that there’s no way he’s getting out of this. When he passed out the sun was setting, it’s dark now so it can’t have been that long. This storm won’t end soon enough for him to survive it.  
  
A strange mixture of resigned relief and desperate guilt is settling over the panic inside of him, but it he doesn’t get much chance to come to terms with it. The next wave sends him skittering, head first, into the nearest hard surface and everything goes quiet.

 

* * *

 

 

Peter watches the man sleeping for so long that he hadn’t noticed how much the storm had picked up until the waves begin to slam into the boat, sending him sliding across the small deck and back into the water as the vessel rocks to the side. Another harsh wave follows and he swims further down to avoid the more turbulent water.

  
His body sways with each wave as he watches the bottom of the boat shifting left and right. His stomach knots as he wonders if the man is going to wake up soon. He waits below the surface for a long while, just watching and worrying. Surely if he’d woken up, he would be sailing away, back to land. At the very least, he would turn the boat to face into the waves. As it was, he was getting closer and closer to tipping with every surge.

  
Peter watches nervously until finally, an enormous wave knocks the boat completely on its side. It only stayed that way for a few moments before it bounced back, but it was enough to send pillows, and all sorts of other things that Peter couldn’t identify, over the edge. Most of the items were floating on the surface, but there was something larger than the rest of the debris that was sinking toward him.

  
As it gets closer, he recognizes the shape of the man and swims quickly up to him. Wrapping his arms around the broad chest, he sees a small cloud of blood coming from his head, just above his left eye, dissipating in the water and he realizes that the man is hurt.

  
Peter rushes to the surface, watching the man’s face intently, relieved when he takes a gasping breath once they’re out of the water. He begins to swim toward the island, rolling himself onto his back as he tries his best to keep the stranger’s head out of the water, struggling against the heavy waves. Luckily, the island is the opposite direction from the storm’s origin, so the further he goes the easier it gets.

  
Still, it’s a long way to go and the man’s dead weight in his hands is not easy to manage. By the time he sees the island over his shoulder, his tail is tired and his arms are shaking, muscles sore from the constant, tight grasp. As he starts to get into shallow water, he’s able to relax a little, letting the waves guide him to the shore where he pulls the man up as far onto the sand as he can manage.  
While he waits for his feet, he stares down at the man, placing his hand on his chest to make sure he’s still breathing and notices the soft glow for the first time. His fingers find the outline of hard metal where there should be soft skin and he can’t help but trace it as he thinks.

  
He knows about people that are special or different- People not unlike himself- Mutants and heroes and villains.. He wonders which one this man might be, if he is special at all. He finds it hard to imagine that someone with a glowing heart could be anything but special.

  
Once he fully transforms, he pulls away reluctantly, repositioning his hands under the man’s arms, tugging him backward away from the shore. He pauses for a breath at the tree-line and he realizes that it’s going to be harder than he thought to get the man to the caves. He looks out to the horizon, seeing the storm coming closer and he knows that they don’t stand a chance if he can’t make it.

  
He takes a deep breath before bending back over, pulling the man up into a sitting position before tugging him up and over his own shoulder. He steels his resolve before struggling to his feet, swaying slightly as he finds his balance. His legs and knees shake, but he manages to get them past the side of the cliff and into the cave. He walks inward, deeper into the cave until he can’t feel the wind blowing any longer, setting the man down on the hard ground.

  
Peter leaves him there as he feels along the wall in the pitch blackness, traveling deeper into the darkness until he reaches a familiar bend, turning the corner. It takes him a few minutes to find what he’s looking for and he makes his way back, finding the man again easily thanks to the light in his chest.

  
He kneels down on the ground and unfolds a thick blanket, laying it across the sleeping stranger’s body. After being in the depth of the ocean, the chill of the air doesn’t bother him, but he knows that most humans aren’t comfortable with nudity, so he pulls on a loose-fitting pair of shorts to cover himself before settling into the ground next to the man.

  
When he rests his head on his arm, the exhausting journey hits him suddenly and he’s asleep almost instantly, lulled by the beautiful blue glow and the sound of heavy rain outside.

 

* * *

  
Waking up, Tony isn’t entirely sure he’s not actually drowning. His brain is fighting through a fog worse than any hangover, maybe not worse than his post-torture fog, but not a whole lot better, either. He feels like he weighs ten tons and he hasn’t even tried to move yet, not entirely sure he can. Most concerning is how impossible it seems to be to feel he’s truly managed to fill his lungs with air.  
  
He’s not a medical doctor, but he feels confident enough to say that difficulty breathing has never led to anything particularly wonderful.  
  
He shifts slightly and chokes at the little air he has when pain flares through his side. Right, his rib. It’s fucked, of course, no surprise there. He’s pretty sure he can still hear the wind and water whipping down from- somewhere. He’s not actually got any idea where he is.  
  
Doing his best to focus, he feels around with the hand on his uninjured side only to find rock. Cold, damp rock. Fuck. Now that he’s registered it, he can feel it beneath him, cool against his back. He squeezes his eyes tighter shut and does his best to just breathe, it’s not working out great. The last time he’d woken up injured and disoriented in a cave following a major accident things hadn’t exactly worked out in his favour and as he’d really like to avoid anything resembling a repeat. Not to mention, now is really, really not the time for an episode.  
  
In his panic, he tries to sit up, it’s only then that he notices the blanket draped over him. That seems…unusual. He’s got a limited sample size to pull from, but he’s pretty sure terrorists don’t typically set their prisoners up with admittedly cozy, if slightly ratty blankets to keep them warm. It’s possible they just want him alive long enough to be of use, but then why not treat his wounds?  
  
The logic doesn’t quite manage to beat the panic clawing at his throat into submission, but it does begin to recede enough for him to think straight.  
  
Between the dark and the way his head is swimming, he can’t see much, just the faint reflection of his reactor’s glow bouncing off of the rocks in front of him. The only real smells in the air are ozone, saltwater, and what Tony can only describe as nature. He’s can’t be more specific than that, he doesn’t exactly spend a lot of time in it. He can’t really hear anything besides the storm, which means he can’t go outside, and based on the way he’s feeling like he got hit by a Mack truck, he’s pretty sure he wouldn’t manage to get far, anyways.  
  
He’s just working on cataloging his injuries when a disembodied voice comes out of the dark and just about gives him a heart attack.  
  
“Jesus!” He exclaims. “What the hell- who the hell is that?!”  
  
  


* * *

  
  
Peter hears the rustling loud and clear, groans of pain echoing through the corridors of the cave until they reach him, and he knows the man must have finally woken up. His heart beats quickly, knowing that he was going to have to come face to face with the man sooner or later, but he thought he'd have more time. He spent all morning in a deeper part of the cave where he kept supplies, trying to distract himself from the inevitable meeting, putting together the ingredients for a fire from a pile of coconut husks and sticks, telling himself it was because he wants to be prepared, but knowing deep down it's because he's terrified.  
  
He had thought about running the night before, hiding further in the cave until the storm passed and then swimming far away, but he knew that the man wouldn't survive without him and he wasn't sure he could live with that. May always said he had a good heart and he knew she was right, but… What if this stranger is dangerous? He's known his fair share of humans and while many of them had been good and kind, many of them had not and it isn't always easy to tell the two apart until it's too late.  
  
He makes his way from the far back of the cave, anxiety building as he clings to the rock, deciding to stay slightly out of view, in the dark where the man's light doesn't reach. Peter can tell he's sitting up, seeing the blue light moving slightly, and is a little relieved that he's not too injured to do so.  
  
“Hello?” He calls out quietly, not wanting to frighten the man.  
  
“Jesus!” Peter jumps slightly at the man's thundering voice, amplified by the acoustics of the cave. “What the hell- who the hell is that?!”  
  
“My name's Peter…” He's a little embarrassed about the way his voice cracks as he speaks, not wanting to show weakness to the stranger that may try to exploit it. Well, so much for that.  
  


* * *

  
  
“My name’s Peter…” The kid says, sounding distinctly freaked out and-shit. Well, Tony feels kind of like an asshole. He really hadn’t been thinking, so busy trying to get his head on straight that he hadn’t even realized how timid or young the voice had been when it startled him.  
  
Honestly, as the seconds go by he’s feeling both more convinced this is not a torture cave, and also significantly more confused as to why and how he got here, but there’s no reason to assume the kid is any less afraid of the situation than he is. Though, it’s possible he’s got some answers.  
  
“Look, kid- Peter, I’m assuming you’re a kid- I’m sorry about the yelling. It’s just- waking up in a cave in the middle of nowhere hasn’t exactly gone down well for me in the past, y’know? Speaking of which, you don’t happen to have any idea where nowhere is, do you?”  
  
He’s got about a million more questions he needs to ask, but he figures better to start slow, seeing as they’ve both already managed to scare a couple years off each other’s lives. Besides, with the wind howling and the sea rumbling outside, Tony’s got a feeling they’ve got time to spare, especially with his injuries keeping him in place.  
  
He tries, again, to sit up properly, but the best he can manage before the pain overwhelms him is getting halfway propped up against the wall behind him. It’s probably not advisable to be moving at all, but as much as he’s growing less alarmed by Peter personally, he’d really rather not leave himself any more vulnerable than he has to be until he’s managed to properly rule out any type of threat.  
  


* * *

  
  
Peter relaxes a little at the sound of his voice as the man apologizes for yelling, sounding scared and confused at the situation he's suddenly found himself in. He can't really blame the stranger, his own anxiety is threatening to paralyze him and he knows exactly what happened.  
  
Maybe it's just his hopeful nature or the way he tends to see the best in people, but there's something about the way that the man speaks that makes Peter believe he's not dangerous. He takes a few steps forward as he speaks.  
  
“Um… Somewhere West of Costa Rica? A few hundred miles… I'm not sure.” He tries to reassure the stranger, but honestly he doesn't really know. There aren't signs under the sea that tell you where you are or where you're going and while he's fairly confident in his ability to get around, he's not too sure where the island is actually located.  
  
He can see the man struggling to sit up and he knows he should stop hiding and help, so he takes a few steps forward- Just enough to where the soft blue light is bouncing off of him and he's sure the man can see him, but isn't close enough to touch.  
  
“What's your name?”  
  


* * *

  
  
In the pale, blue glow of the reactor light Peter looks somehow both younger and older than he expects. He doesn’t look too baby-faced, but there’s no way he’s out of his teens. It shouldn’t be so startling, he heard his voice, but perhaps some part of Tony was still expecting to have the rug pulled out from under him. Some kind of ruse and not some doe-eyed teenager looking at him like he thinks he’s the one who might have to run away, as if Tony’s in any state to chase.  
  
Unfortunately, Peter’s guess seems to be about as good as his is when it comes to where they are. It’s not ideal, but he’s not going to dwell on it, there’s already too much else to worry about and the lack of knowledge doesn’t set him back any further than he was a moment ago. At least now he’s not alone.  
  
The kid asks his name, he still seems pretty shy but Tony can’t blame him, given the circumstances.  
  
“I’m Tony.” He does his best to be genial, leaving out his last name. “Thanks for the blanket, I’m guessing it’s yours.” He grabs the corner of it to gesture. “Do you know how I got here? Because things are a little hazy, but I’m pretty sure I shouldn’t be alive right now. Also, kind of wondering what you’re even doing here, not that you’re not great company, but everything about this just seems a little… strange. You know?”  
  
Strange is maybe one of the bigger understatements of Tony’s life, which is saying something, especially given the last few years. The more he looks at Peter the more confused he feels. He doesn’t look injured, so he doubts he was caught in the storm too, he doesn’t look particularly underfed, so he doubts he’s been stranded, and he’s pretty sure that if this were a populated island he’d have a better idea of where they are. So, yeah. It’s all definitely more than a bit strange, to say the least.  
  


* * *

  
  
Peter's a little disappointed that he can't see the man's face, the light from his chest fading before it could make it that far. He'd seen it the night before, from the edge of the boat, but Tony had been asleep, just like when he'd brought him into the cave. Peter wanted to see him now that he was awake.  
  
“I…” Peter hesitates, not sure exactly what he should give away about himself just yet. “I pulled you from the water.” It's not a complete lie..  
  
He watches the man wincing, arm wrapped around his chest and he wonders if Tony is more hurt than he thought. He needs to get the man into the open cavern to get a better look.  
  
“Can you walk?” Peter shifts himself up onto his knees, reaching out to Tony. “I have water and there's light, but it's further into the cave.”  
  


* * *

  
  
Tony’s no fool, he can tell that Peter’s hiding something but he chooses not to press. After-all, he’d decided it might be better to keep his last name to himself, just in case, he can allow the kid his own privacy in return.  
  
Still, he’s definitely curious. It’s possible he never noticed the island when he was on board his yacht, but it seems unlikely. He doesn’t actually know how small it is, but if they weren’t flooded by the storm it must be sizeable enough, which means he somehow survived in the water long enough for Peter to get him without drowning himself.  
  
Very, very strange.  
  
He puts the questions on the back-burner and reaches up to grab the hand Peter is offering.  
  
“Thanks.” He grunts as the kid helps him onto his feet. He’s sore all over, and more than a little woozy, but Peter is more solid than he looks and with his help he manages to hobble along the floor of the cave. Despite the dark, Peter seems quite at ease, he clearly knows the way well.  
  
Tony is out of breath by the time they reach an alcove full of soft light.  
  


* * *

  
  
In the light, Peter helps Tony to get comfortable on the ground, leaning him again a large, smooth rock before leaving him to finish what he'd started.  
  
“Just wait here.”  
  
He has all of the makings of a fire ready to go from earlier, he just needs a spark. Grabbing a rock and a small, fat piece of metal, he hits them together quickly sending small, orange sparks flying until the thin, husky fibers are smoking. He leans over, blowing gently until flames begin to flicker up and he can feel Tony's eyes on him, watching his every move.  
  
Once the fire is steady, Peter goes over to the far wall of the cave where he store his supplies, using the rock's natural formation like a shelving unit, each small segment holding a different handful of items.  
  
“You must be thirsty…” He grabs a rusty iron teapot, filling it from the stream and setting it at the base of the fire, taking a seat nearby. “It just needs to boil for a minute.”  
  
While he waits, he watches the man from the corner of his eye. His body, though damaged, is pleasantly solid and well-muscled. The hair of his beard is peppered with gray and his eyes are a little bloodshot, but he's certainly attractive… Peter turns his attention back to the fire, not wanting to be caught staring.  
  
“So,” Peter clears his throat. “What were you doing out during the storm?”  
  


* * *

  
  
Tony watches as Peter gets a fire started with surprising efficiency, taking the opportunity to observe him a little closer. He’s pointed, boyish features and eyes that are downright pretty when the flames hit them, which is precisely not what Tony needs to be paying attention to. Even so, before he looks away entirely it’s impossible not to notice how toned and lithe Peter’s body is, he supposes living on some island in the middle of nowhere will do that to you, at any age. It’s clear that’s what Peter’s been doing, at least for a little while.  
  
He pulls his eyes away and lets himself savour the heat of the flames now that they’ve grown large enough for the warmth to spread. He’s not sure he’d realized just how far the cold had sunken into his bones until now, but now that he’s noticed it feels impossible not to ignore. Peter’s busy boiling some water for them to drink and, yeah. He’s pretty damn thirsty, too, now that he thinks about it. However it is he ended up alive, he probably did manage to swallow quite a bit of saltwater beforehand.  
  
“So,” Peter begins, catching his attention again. “What were you doing out during the storm?” He’s not looking at Tony when he asks, so he allows his eyes to drift over the smooth planes of his back, there’s a small niggling of guilt in the back of his mind, he knows he’s not exactly trying to check himself quite as much as he should be, but he’d say he deserves a break right about now.  
  
“I was taking a sabbatical.” It’s not quite the truth, but it’s about as close to a proper explanation as he’s got the words for, right now. He’s ashamed to admit that he’s hoping Peter doesn’t ask how the storm managed to sneak up on him like it did. There aren’t exactly a wealth of plausible excuses, and even a heavy sleeper wouldn’t have slept through that much turbulence unaided.  
  
“How about you? You couldn’t have been far if you found me.” He knows it’s a bit of a leading question, not entirely fair, but sue him. He’s curious.  
  


* * *

  
  
Peter chews his lip, not sure what he's going to say. He knew the man would be curious about him and it had him nervous. He's never been an especially good liar and he wants Tony to trust him, but he's scared of what he'll say if he finds out how different he is.  
  
“I was fishing when I saw you. You were floating on something- A cushion? Maybe a mattress?” He went to grab a large, metal cup, preparing for when the water would be done boiling, knowing that Tony must be severely dehydrated.  
  
In his other hand, he grabs a couple of coconuts and a knife, putting them in a wide-mouthed bowl, clutching it to his chest as he walks back over, handing the cup to Tony before sitting down beside him, positioning himself to face the smaller rocks next to him, bowl on his lap. With a few harsh motions against the sharp edge of the rock, the coconut bursts open and the bowl catches the majority of the liquid that comes splashing out.  
  
Peter empties the fruit into the bowl before handing it to Tony, setting the shell aside. “Here. Drink this.” Peter searches nearby for a thick stick that he can use to pull the teapot from the fire, setting it to the side to cool.  
  
He decides that he likes the feeling of Tony watching him as he scores the inside of the fruit, breaking off bite-sized pieces of the coconut's meat, collecting it inside of one of the other halves. Maybe it's just in his head, but it seems like Tony is impressed with him and it feels good to take care of someone again. He smiles softly as he pops a piece of fruit into his mouth before offering the makeshift bowl to Tony.  
  
“Once you're feeling a little better, I can help you clean that cut.” Peter glances up to the wound on the man's forehead. “Your ribs hurt too?”  
  


* * *

  
  
Tony turns Peter’s words over in his head, a cushion isn’t impossible. Implausible, absolutely, but not impossible. Who knows, maybe he’d even had a lucid moment or two he’d forgotten, head trauma can be funny like that. He’s definitely not convinced, but he’s willing to give Peter the benefit of the doubt, seeing as he’s pretty much keeping him alive right now.  
  
He watches, perhaps a little too closely, as Peter smashes open the coconuts he’s retrieved against the sharp edge of a rock. It’s clear he’s done this plenty of times before. When Peter hands him the bowl, Tony gets it down fast enough that he feels a bit sick. He definitely needed that more than he’d realized and his body is already crying out for more.  
  
He knows he’s not being particularly subtle, watching as Peter’s deft hands pull apart the inside of the coconut, following the motion of his tongue as it chases the taste when he pops a piece into his mouth, but he’s feeling more than a little hazy and isn’t very inclined to consider it a priority. There’s a knot of nausea building in his stomach, and he keeps telling himself it’s just because he hasn’t eaten in so long, but deep down he’s pretty sure he’s not that lucky.  
  
Peter hands him the bowl of fruit and he takes it, shoving down the nausea that’s threatening to rise as Peter offers to clean his cut, he definitely can’t afford to throw anything up right now, more dehydration is the last thing he needs. He’s pretty sure he didn’t even notice he had a cut, he raises his hand to his forehead, pulling it back with a wince when it finds raw skin. It’s hot to touch, and he doesn’t need to put his hand on his ribs to know they’re much the same. Not a good sign.  
  
“Yeah.” He answers, only half paying attention. Most of his focus is currently on weighing the risk versus reward of trying to get some of the fruit down.  
  
He glances up at Peter and it’s impossible to miss the look of concern on his face. He smiles at him, hoping it looks more reassuring than it feels, and grabs a piece from the bowl. When he puts it in his mouth he gets the sickly salivating that generally signals nothing good, and holds it there a while, hoping the urge will subside.  
  
After holding it in his mouth for far too long to be conspicuous the urge to be sick passes and he hands the bowl back to Peter, not wanting to tempt fate now that he’s managed to get something down, however small. He slides closer to the fire with a groan and an unconcealed shiver, the longer he’s awake the worse he feels.  
  
“Don’t suppose you’ve got any Advil?” He asks, a particularly lame attempt at a joke. The face Peter makes at him tells him as much.  
  


* * *

  
  
Peter's insides flutter a little when Tony smiles at him, as weak and unconvincing it is. Hopefully soon he'll get to see a real smile- The kind that goes all the way up to his eyes, lighting up his whole face. That is, if Tony can find something deserving that kind of smile being that he's hurt and lost and by the color draining from his face, sick as well.  
  
Peter scoffs at his request for Advil, but reaches his hand out to touch Tony's forehead to check for himself, careful to avoid the laceration.  
  
“You're burning up…” He lets his hand rest there a moment longer before pulling it back, thinking to himself. “Hold on, I might have something.”  
  
Peter looks around the cave near where the water is flowing in and he spots what he's looking for. He starts to climb up the rocks, determined to get a piece of the fern growing on the wet wall. He climbs as high as he can safely go, stretching his body up to reach until he grabs a long leaf and yanks it free. For a moment, he loses his balance, but quickly recovers, steadying himself before descending.  
  
Sitting down across from Tony, he rips the leaf up before sticking into the still-hot teapot before running back over to his supplies, digging through the small pile of coconuts until he pulls out a stalk and jogs back over. He shaves a few slices off of the stick, placing them into the kettle as well.  
  
“The fern should help with the fever and the sugar cane will make it not taste so bad. Maybe.. It's probably still going to taste pretty bad.” He makes another face as he uses the sugar cane to stir the tea-like concoction before pouring it into the dented metal mug he'd brought over earlier, taking a small testing sip and raising his eyebrows.  
  
“Actually, it's not bad!” He smiled brightly as he hands the mug to Tony. “It's no Earl Grey, but it'll do.”  
  


* * *

  
  
It’s hard not to be endeared by Peter, Tony finds. The fever may be freeing his mind a little, but he’s nowhere near the point of delirium, so he’s forced to admit that he feels this way all on his own. But really, who could blame him? Watching the kid run around doing whatever he can manage to help him, it’s sweet. He’s sweet, it wouldn’t be right if he didn’t appreciate that, he’s justifies.  
  
Peter hands him the mug of makeshift tea, eyes wide and earnest, and Tony groans as he takes it. He doesn’t miss the concern that flashes over Peter’s face, and he realizes how it must have sounded. Not wanting to concern him, or even offend him, he smiles a little sheepishly.  
  
“Sorry, just a headache.” He promises, lifting the cup to his lips. The gentle scent of it seems to quell some of the nausea he’s been feeling and he finds it goes down fairly easily.  
  
“Thanks, you were right, kid. Not too bad, at all.” He doesn’t take long to get it all done, any concern about burning his mouth is crushed by how thirsty he is, not to mention how eager he’s feeling to get back up on his feet. He knows already that he’s going to have to pop his rib back into place at some point, but better to let any potential infection heal, first.  
  
Once the tea is down, finally spreading a touch of warmth through his body, he finds that the day is catching up with him and decides to shuffle a little closer to the fire, reclining against a nearby rock.  
  
“Hey, think you could just wake me up every now and then? I’m feeling pretty wiped out but I’m gonna need you to check in on me, head trauma, y’know?” He’s not actually certain he has head trauma, and surely his initial stretch had been more dangerous than this, but he figures now isn’t exactly the time to throw caution to the wind where his health is concerned. He’s already cheated death once today.  
  


* * *

  
  
Tony gets a little less scary with each smile, especially because Peter knows there's no way he actually feels like smiling, which means that he's most likely doing it to make Peter feel better and it's definitely working. He's relaxing more as Tony seems to start to feel a little better, able to get some food and water in his stomach, the sickly green color fading from his face.  
  
He's a little disappointed when Tony says he's going to bed, but he knows he needs to rest. It's just been so long since he's been around another person and he really liked the little conversation they'd had already. He'd been looking forward to more, but it would have to wait.  
  
“Y-yeah, of course.” Peter wanted to reach out and pull the blanket over the man's shoulders, but he held his hands. “You should rest. I'll make some more tea for when you wake up.”  
  
As Tony drifts off, Peter realizes how much he needs to get done. He starts by venturing out of the cave, pleased to see that the worst of the storm has passed, only a light drizzle remaining. Taking a few trips, he collects a decent stack of wood, placing it near the fire to dry out before checking in on Tony, waking him up just long enough to get a quick confirmation that he's all right.  
  
After he thinks he has enough wood to last through the night, he starts boiling more water, saving it up in the large bowl so that Tony won't have to wait if he gets thirsty. He also decides he should take the chance to go fishing while the odds of getting caught are low. Before he leaves for the shore, he checks in again and Tony was still all right. A little groggy, but he took a moment to drink a small amount of water, which was encouraging.  
  
The water is still a little rough as he swims out, giving him a little trouble because the fish are out deeper than they normally would be. After a lot longer than he originally planned, he pulls a string of fish behind him as he sits on the shore, waiting for his legs. He looks down at the bounty with a smile. He can't wait for Tony to wake up to the smell of freshly grilled fish. Maybe he'll smile again..  
  
Back inside the cave, Peter sets the fish to the side to be cleaned, but he wants to check on Tony first. Kneeling beside him, he reaches out to shake his bare shoulder, a little worried at the heat that had come back since the last time he'd checked.  
  
“Tony…” He whispers, partially because he doesn't want to startle him and partially because something about touching the man's bare skin makes him a little breathless. “Hey, it's time to wake up…”  
  
When he doesn't budge, Peter takes a closer look and sees the sweat pouring down his pale face. “Tony…?” He rolls the man onto his back, shaking his shoulders as he begins to panic. “Tony, wake up!” He taps his face, gently at first, but with more force as he gets desperate for a response. “Please wake up…”  
  
For the first time, he thinks that he may not be able to save him- That he might be more hurt than Peter can help and tears stream down his face at the thought of losing him. As his hand rests on Tony's cheek, he forces himself to take a deep breath and then another until he's thinking clearly again. He **has** to get the fever down. He looks around, thinking, when his eyes land on the the small body of rain water that he'd been pulling from. Face still wet with tears and hands shaking, he drags Tony by the shoulders over to the water's edge, submerging them both from the chest down.  
  
“Please wake up…” He lays his head on the man's broad, firm chest, his own body hiccuping as he cries, afraid he's too late, that Tony won't ever wake up. “Please, Tony… I don't want to be alone anymore…”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is sooo much longer than the last chapter! We hope that you enjoy reading! Let us know what you think, we are both complete whores for attention and praise :D

The fever dreams are almost enough to make Tony’s reality seem like a delight by comparison. He’s no stranger to nightmares, but like this they always manage to take on a ghoulish new level of painful realism.  
  
He sees Steve’s shield coming down on his neck for real, this time. He feels every inch of pain it produces in slow motion. He watches Pepper fall, Rhodey fall, this time neither of them get back up. He witnesses Ultron rise again, has to live out what happens when they fail to stop him. He rips apart the earth and Tony has to watch the light leave the eyes of everyone he’s ever let down. It’s a long list.  
  
Even Peter is there, which might surprise Tony if he had half a mind to realize how unexpected it is, at this point. Peter is swimming out to save him, but the distance between them seems to stretch further and further until his body gives out. He sinks below the surface and Tony watches him get dragged under, terror clear on his face. He sinks further and further until he’s disappeared into the abyss entirely.  
  
The last thing he sees is the wormhole, he’s being sucked up into it and after everything he’s already seen, the burden of the world’s destruction resting heavy on his shoulders, the emptiness of it almost feels like a reprieve.

 

* * *

  


When he finally wakes up it’s a painfully slow process. Getting there feels like dragging his feet through tar, like he’s shaking off a hundred years of sleep. The first thing he’s aware of, strangely enough, is that his mouth feels dry as sandpaper and tastes like something’s died in it.  
  
The next is that he’s wet. Very, very wet, soaked down to the bone. He groggily lifts his hands, inspecting them with a sleepy groan, arms shaking as he lifts them, and finds the pads of his fingers deeply wrinkled. How long has he been in the water? It’s not until he pushes himself up and feels the cold spread over his back that he realizes he was leaning against someone. Well, Peter.  
  
He turns and finds the boy leaned back against the rocks, his eyes look swollen and Tony realizes he must have been crying. It makes him feel inexplicably sick, he hadn’t even done anything, for once, but he hates that he’s made him worry so much. Tony wants to pick him up and be the one to carry him, for once. Lay him down by the fire and try his hand at warming up some of the fish he can definitely smell so that he can wake up to it. Make up for all he’s done for him, at least a little.  
  
Unfortunately, his body has other plans. He’s feeling better, certainly, but he’s still very weak. Now that he’s smelled food and his mind has caught up with his body, he’s beginning to feel the tremors running through him, signaling how desperately he needs to eat. He’s having a hard enough time dragging himself around, there’s no way he’s going to be able to get Peter out of the water as well.  
  
With a resigned sigh he turns in the water, moving to drop a wet hand on Peter’s shoulder, shaking him gently. He only barely resists the urge to run a thumb over his cheek.  
  
“Up and at em, kiddo.” He says, just a little teasing and gentle as he can manage while still loud enough to wake him. “You’re gonna be the sick one soon, if you don’t get out of this water.” He laughs, mostly to himself. Peter begins to shift, eyes fluttering open, bleary and still full of sleep. As soon as he notices Tony’s hand on his shoulder his cheeks go pink. It seems like an absurd reaction, given the circumstances, but after a moment of reflection it occurs to Tony that he really has no idea how long it’s been since Peter has been touched by anyone else. Something inside him aches for the kid, it’s not right that he’s been so alone.  
  
It also occurs to him that Peter is surprisingly warm, considering the fact that he’s been in the water this long without a fever, but he shelves that thought for later.  


* * *

  
  
Peter blinks awake slowly, finally having settled into a deep sleep, comforted by Tony's weight on him. He expects the slight shaking to come from another set of tremors coursing through the man's body, but when he opens his eyes, he sees Tony looking at him and feels his firm hand on his shoulder.  
  
Peter can't help the way his face burns at the touch and closeness, it's just been so long since he'd been near another person and never since he's been old enough to really appreciate it. His heart is beating quickly, but he tries to focus on what Tony is saying. It's time to get up.. Tony probably needs his help to get out of the water. Finally, his brain is catching up with him and he helps the man back to the dwindling fire to dry off.  
  
Once Tony is relatively comfortable and warming up, Peter goes to the corner to clean the fish he'd caught earlier, using the distance to calm himself. How could such a simple thing make him feel like that? Tony's hand only touched a small bit of skin on his shoulder, but he felt it through his entire body, even after he'd pulled away. He knows Tony must be starving, so he hurries, trying not to think about it too much as he brings the cleaned fish over to the fire, sticking two of them into the flames after skewering them.  
  
“How are you feeling?” He doesn't want Tony to know that he'd panicked earlier, but he can't keep the worry out of his voice. He just needs to know that Tony is okay. Just the thought that he might not be makes Peter's stomach turn.  


* * *

  
  
Peter helps him up and out of the water, getting him settled by the fire, and wasting exactly no time at all getting some fish on the fire. It’s hard to concentrate past anything but intense hunger flaring and twisting in his gut, now that the smell of fish is filling the air it’s become impossible to ignore just how urgently his body needs it.  
  
“How long was I out for, this time?” He asks as Peter pokes around the flames. For how much he’s lost his perception of time it could’ve been hours, it could’ve been a day or two, he really isn’t sure. “I hope I didn’t scare you too bad.” He says carefully. He wants to apologize but he gets the feeling that Peter doesn’t want him to feel indebted to him, even though he sort of is, after everything. He’s going to have to find a way to make it up to him once he gets them off this island.  
  
Which, speaking of getting off the island, he’s hoping once he gets some food down he might be able to get outside and finally take a look around. He’s not sure when F.R.I.D.A.Y. went offline, but with any luck his last broadcast location wasn’t too far from where they are now, which means his biggest priority should be building some kind of signal.  
  
The more pragmatic, arguably pessimistic, part of his mind reminds him that he didn’t actually tell anyone how long he would be gone or when to expect him back. He has no idea at what point someone will think to come looking for him and he’s going to have to work on a way to get someone’s attention sooner than later. He still doesn’t know how, exactly, Peter got here, but between the kettle and the blanket it seems like at some point or another there might’ve been people here, maybe he’ll be able to cobble something together.  


* * *

  
  
Peter fidgets with the fish as Tony questions him, not wanting them to burn, but also avoiding his gaze. He couldn't shake the guilty feeling, like he'd failed Tony and he couldn't stand to look him in the eyes.  
  
“Um.. A couple of days now?” Peter glances up at the sky and sees the fainted tint of light starting to creep up. “You slept most of the first day and then when you went back to sleep it was a few hours while I was gathering wood and water and then.. It took me a while to get the fish.. It was just getting dark when I got back and it looks like the sun will be up soon..” He can feel his voice starting to shake and he takes a deep breath to keep himself from rambling. He can already feel the tears behind his eyes again just thinking about what happened after he got back.  
  
“I-I don't know how long after that.. You wouldn't wake up so I put you in the water and then-” He rubs his eyes with the back of his hand. “I fell asleep.. I'm sorry, Tony, I should have stayed up to make sure you were okay..” He sniffled, tears falling faster than he can wipe them away, so he looks away.  
  
All he had to do to keep Tony safe was to stay awake, it was such a simple task, but he hadn't been able to do it. What if something had happened while he was asleep? What if Tony had gotten worse and he couldn't help? He knows that he's the only reason that Tony is alive in the first place, but that just makes him feel like keeping Tony alive his his responsibility. He has to do better..  


* * *

  
  
Tony sees the way Peter is coming apart at the seams, trying to recount the time Tony had been unconscious. It was already obvious he’d been upset when Tony noticed his eyes, but now, seeing a glimpse of it rather than just the aftermath, he’s really starting to get how terrified he must have been.  
  
He shuffles closer to the fire and reaches out, wrapping a hand firm around Peter’s nape.  
  
“Look at me.” He commands as much authority as he can into his voice, despite… everything. Peter ducks his head, hesitant, trying to hide the tears Tony can already hear in his voice. “Hey, Peter, seriously.” He tries again, a little gentler. “Look at me.” Finally Peter does, looking up at him from under tear matted lashes, it makes something painful twist in his chest.  
  
“I’m right here, and I’m not going anywhere. You did that. I’m here because of you, you get that?” He gives Peter a little shake, trying to convey how serious he is. He needs him to understand just how grateful Tony is, Peter has already saved his live twice, at least.  
  
“You’ve got nothing to be sorry for, kid. You did great, way more than you had to. Come on, bring it in.” He pulls Peter in, only slightly awkward, for the hug he so clearly needs. Comfort isn’t exactly his forte, but he’s pleasantly surprised that it doesn’t feel so difficult with Peter. Less foreign than he expects.  


* * *

  
  
When Tony wraps a hand around the back of his neck, Peter stiffens, sure that Tony is going to yell at him or tell him how disappointed he is and he tries to shrink away. The man tries again to get his attention, voice softer than before, and he gives in, finally meeting his eyes.  
  
Tony speaks softly, telling him what a good job he's doing before pulling him into a hug and Peter can feel the tension and worry melting away. The last time he could remember being hugged was by his Aunt May the day they were separated and he hadn't realized how much he missed being comforted by someone. Even though they'd just met, he hadn't realized how lonely he was until he was confronted with the thought of losing Tony and it had been all he could think about ever since.  
  
It takes him a moment, but he lifts his arms, wrapping them around Tony's back as he lets himself be pulled in. He buries his face in the crook of Tony's neck, letting his eyes close. Tony is dirty and damp, but there's an underlying musk that stirs something in him that he's not familiar with and he sighs in the embrace.  


* * *

  
  
Once Peter hugs him back it doesn’t take long to realize it’s going to be a long minute before he’s ready to let go. He melts into him and Tony lets himself find his own comfort in it, holding him a little tighter and swallowing down the urge to crack a joke, make the moment feel less intimate. Peter needs this, maybe even as much as he does. He can feel Peter’s breath’s ghosting out close against his neck, feel the tears from earlier smearing across his skin.  
  
His breath is just a little shaky and Tony drops a chin into his hair, rubbing a hand over his back, whatever he thinks might help. The urge to protect people isn’t a new one for him, but it’s never been quite so strong, so quick. He blames the puppy dog eyes, he’s not sure how much opportunity Peter’s had to practice using them, but they’re certainly dangerous.  
  
He feels Peter’s lips ghost over his neck and it’s impossible to know whether or was deliberate or not. He’s pretty sure it wasn’t, but the warm shock that shoots through him makes him push Peter back, hopefully the gesture doesn’t come off with quite the same edge of panic he feels.  
  
“Alright.” He clears his throat, holding Peter at a distance and aiming for nonchalance. “You good? Cause I’m going to have to ask for your help with one more thing, sorry, kid. I promise I’ll make it up to you?” He’s only sort of hoping Peter reads it for the apology in his sudden shift in behaviour that it is, not sure enough of what he’d read in it to be certain. Not sure what’s even there to be seen.  


* * *

  
  
Peter feels completely enveloped in Tony's warmth and he never wants it to stop. It's the best thing he's ever felt and he doesn't think it could get better until he feels Tony's chin resting on his head. It's such a simple gesture, but it makes him feel so safe, like how he felt when he was with his family. Then, Tony's hand runs up and down his back and the feeling completely changes. The air feels like it's charged with electricity and his mouth falls open.  
  
Before he can think to much about the way the touch makes him feel, Tony's pushing him away, asking for a favor. “Yeah..” Peter blushes, a small smile on his face. “I'm good.”  
  
Tony says he needs help one more time and all Peter can think is he would help Tony a million more times and he doesn't even need to ask. Maybe it's how long he's been alone and maybe it would be the same if it had been someone else, there's no way to know, but he doesn't think so. There's something about Tony that he can't put his finger on, like they were destined to meet that night. Like they were connected.  
  
“What is it?” Tony's about to answer when Peter interrupts him. “Hold on just a second..” He leans over to turn the fish over, pleased with the deep brown color. He'd sort of lost track of time as soon as Tony touched him, completely forgetting about their food. Once they were settled, he asked again. “Okay, what do you need?”  


* * *

  
  
He’s relieved to see that Peter isn’t looking particularly upset about being pushed away, though it’s hard to parse whether the dazed look in his eyes is better or worse than if he had. Tony’s not stupid, he knows exactly why he freaked out, but lusting after a potential-minor is really not something he needs to add to his list of concerns right now, so he brushes it off. Besides, he reasons, in all likelihood it’s largely down to the extreme circumstances of their situatuion. Bonding over trauma, and whatnot.  
  
“It’s no big deal,” Tony starts, moving back so Peter can turn most of his attention back to the fire. “I’ve gotta pop this rib back in,” he gestures vaguely down his side. “Ordinarily I’d be able to get it done myself, but I’m still feeling a little shaky, you know. Might need a little help til I get my strength back. Hope you’re not too squeamish.” It’s a bit teasing and he grins towards the fire as he says it.  
  
After everything he’s already done, whether he should’ve had to or not, it’s hard to imagine Peter would be squeamish about much at all.  
  
His mouth is watering as he watches the fish on the fire, he’s still desperately hungry, and maybe beginning to be even more desperately stir-crazy. He’s looking forward to actually feeling up to a little exploring, putting together a plan.

 

* * *

  
  
Peter stares at him blankly as he explains what he needs help with. “You need.. I don't know how to do that.” He knew that Tony's ribs were hurt from the way that he held his arm around his chest when he moved, but he didn't know that ribs could pop out. It sounded painful..  
  
“But if you tell me what to do, I can do it.” He hopes he doesn't come off as too eager as he sits up straighter, readying himself for instructions. He just wants to do a good job so that Tony can feel better. He can't wait to show the man his island and how beautiful it is, but he can't do that if Tony can barely walk.  
  
He thought about it a lot while he was collecting wood and he's sure that Tony will love the hot springs and a nice, long soak might actually help him heal faster and feel better. Then there's the waterfall.. Maybe when he's feeling better, they can hike up to the highest point and he can show Tony the view.  
  
All of the tension and stress he'd been feeling is finally starting to settle down, between Tony's hug and encouraging words, and all of the fun things he was looking forward to. At first, everything at seemed like a disaster, but now it's.. Kind of nice.  


* * *

  
  
As is becoming the norm, Peter seems more than happy to help him. He’s incredibly earnest about it and really, Tony is pretty sure that Peter’s almost as lucky it was him, and not anyone else, who crashed here as he is that it was Peter who found him. He can think of plenty of people who wouldn’t hesitate to take advantage of how genuinely kind-hearted the kid is.  
  
“Don’t worry, it’s pretty easy, I’ve done it before. Not always time for a medic, you know?” Peter looks puzzled, and it occurs to Tony that he keeps forgetting Peter hasn’t actually given any indication that he knows who he is. It’s the biggest clue that something in Peter’s background is…more complex than he’s letting on. He could be wrong, of course, Peter could just be very polite, or very good at pretending, it’s hard to say.  
  
“Well, anyways, the point is it’s easy, I promise. Just wouldn’t be all that easy to do alone, in this shape, with no equipment.” He considers Peter’s efforts to get him up and running, and his own increasing need to do something, and thinks maybe a little walk would do them both good. “Maybe afterwards you can show me how to get out of here. Don’t know how far I’ll actually manage to get, today, but I’m pretty sure I’m going to lose my mind if I don’t see some natural light, soon. Not something I ever pictured myself saying.” He snorts.  


* * *

  
  
Peter pulls the fish off the fire while Tony assures him that fixing his rib isn't as difficult as it sounds He digs the sticks in the ground to keep them clean while they cool before grabs another two fish, skewering them. He puts them on the fire before sitting down again, guessing that Tony is going to be hungry enough to eat more than one fish.  
  
He perks up as Tony mentions he wants to go outside. The sun would be up soon, so he could definitely make that happen. “I was actually thinking you might like the hot springs. I like to soak when I get sick or sore. It always makes me feel better. It's a little bit of a walk, but I can help and we can take breaks if you need to. We have all day.” He smiles softly, excited to share his ideas with Tony.  
  
Peter taps the fish with his finger to make sure it's not too hot to eat and then pulls one of the sticks from the ground. “Go ahead, it should be good now.” He takes a small bite, fingers coming up to his lips to slide out a small sliver, flicking it into the fire. “Just watch out for bones.”  


* * *

  
  
He won’t lie, the idea of a hot spring sounds pretty great, right now. Maybe he’ll even get back into shape a little quicker with it.  
  
“Hot springs sound great, kid.” He smiles, reaching out to grab one of the skewers and pointedly not letting his eyes be drawn to Peter’s delicate fingers picking bones from his lips. As soon as he gets the fish in his mouth he feels beyond ravenous, groaning as he eats. “Christ, I swear, it’s not just the starvation, this is amazing.” It probably is at least fifty-percent the starvation, but he doesn’t particularly care.  
  
He devours the rest of the fish, only barely stopping to chew in case of bones- it would be a shame to come all this way then choke to death- hardly paying any mind to anything else as he does. By the time he’s full he feels like he’s in heaven. It’s probably (definitely) dramatic, but he was beginning to feel like he’d never be full again.  
  
He lays back and waits for Peter to finish as he savours the feeling of sated hunger. Once Peter is done he waves him over, not bothering to sit up.  
  
“Alright, kid, c’mere. The placement is a little awkward, but it’s not gonna be hard, you’ll see.” Peter nods down at him from where he’s kneeling at his side, looking just a little nervous. Peter rolls to face him slightly and takes his hand, wrapping it over his own back to feel down the nodules where his ribs meet his spine. His breath skips a little when they hit the protrusion.  
  
“You feel that one, sticking out? Keep your hand there.” He rolls back and crosses his arms over his chest, looking up at Peter. “Okay, now you’re just gonna take your other arm, and put all your weight on this elbow,” He gestures with said elbow to indicate which one he means. “And when I say go, you’re just going to push all your weight down until I say stop, okay? Don’t go slow.” Peter’s a little wide-eyed, but he looks determined. Tony takes a deep breath.  
  
“Alright, go.”  
  
Peter pushes until Tony feels, and even hears, a little, the telltale pop and subsequent ache and relief of his rib popping back into place.  
  
“Okay, that’s good.” He exhales heavily, eyes slipping shut as he squirms a bit, readjusting. It’s an improvement, but it feels a little alien after a few days of having it displaced. After a moment he clears his throat.  
  
“Uh, you can move your hands now, kid.” He prompts, unable to keep from making it just a little teasing.  


* * *

  
  
Peter was a little scared of hurting Tony, but then he let out a heavy breath and Peter could tell that it had worked and he felt better already. After he finished, his hands stayed in place, intrigued by the shape and feel of his body. For as damaged and tired as Tony was, his body was solid and strong, much different than Peter's lean frame.  
  
He'd never really had a father-figure in his life, his own passed away when he was young, so he'd never been up close and personal, in any capacity, with a man's body. He'd known boys and while some were slightly older than him, they were still boys and they didn't have bodies like Tony's- Broad and firm..  
  
When Tony mentioned that he could take his hands back, Peter just smiled a little to himself before pulling them back slowly.  
  
“Do you mind if I get a little more sleep before the sun comes up?” He asked, wanting to make sure Tony felt comfortable without his assistance for a little while now that he felt better.  


* * *

  
  
“Go for it, kid.” Tony smiles as Peter gets comfortable, it doesn’t take him long to nod off. Really, Tony hasn’t got any idea how much the kid has actually slept since he got here, but aside from when Tony had woken up to find him asleep behind him, it doesn’t seem like he’s gotten a wink.  
  
For a while, Tony doesn’t do much of anything while Peter is asleep. He stares into the fire and lets himself think while the ache in his ribs slowly recedes. This seems a good opportunity to start coming up with plans A, B, and C to get them off the island, so that’s what he’ll do.  


He runs a hand through his hair, tugging at it in frustration when he can’t quite call to mind what exactly his coordinates were the last time he checked in with F.R.I.D.A.Y.  


Thinking that a little visualization might help, he grabs one of the stick by the fire that Peter had used to skewer the fish and starts mapping out what he remembers of his course in the damp sand by the little pool of water.  
  
It wasn’t particularly complicated, he’d set out from California and drifted down along the coast, stopping only once or twice along Mexico and once more in Nicaragua. He knows he crossed the mile line from there to Costa Rica, and he’s fairly certain he hadn’t passed it, Peter had been fairly sure of the same when he asked. It’s not much to go off, but it’s something.  
  
He’s itching to get outside and see the size of the island, anything particularly big has to be pretty far out from the mainland if it’s entirely uninhabited, but he suspects that even if no one else is here right now, they aren’t the first ones, based on the bits and pieces Peter seems to get by with. He’s not exactly sure if that’s more or less reassuring, either someone already knows about this island, which may be helpful when someone eventually comes looking for him, or the only people who ever landed here never left.  
  
Aware of the fact that he can’t get much further in this particular part of his plans until he sees the size of the island and what kind of supplies it has to offer, Tony starts trying to think of what the situation back home is.  
  
Who knows he’s gone, who’s most likely to have a clue where he’s gone? How far could his boat have drifted from where he is now, assuming it sent off a distress signal before the system went down. If it didn’t he could definitely be stuck here more than a little while. Still, he’s gotten out of more impossible circumstances before, he refuses to let himself dwell on it until he knows what he’s working with.  
  
He’s not sure how long he spends drawing crude maps in the sand and trying to think of who might be left that would think to come looking for him here. It’s a short list, but he can hardly blame anyone else for the way he’s pushed them all away. Eventually he lets himself lie back by the dwindling fire, closing his eyes. He doesn’t sleep, he simply does his best to clear his mind. The fact is that he doesn’t have a clue when anyone will decide it’s been long enough to look for him, even less where they’ll search. He can’t afford to let himself get bogged down by anxieties, right now, he’s got to stay sharp.  
  
There are people who will get hurt if he stays gone too long, and given his track record it’d be fair of anyone to assume he’s just skipped out on a bender. He basically had.  
  
Which, add it to the list of his regrets because now that is mind isn’t addled by fever or focused on the desperate need to get some food down, he’s starting to feel a familiar itch under his skin. It’s not too bad just yet, but he knows it’s going to get worse. It only serves to make him all the more anxious to get outside, explore, do anything to distract himself before things get too bad.  


* * *

  
  
When Peter starts to stir, he hears Tony cursing under his breath and he turns his head to see what he's doing. The sun was high in the sky, illuminating the cave and Tony looks like he'd been drawing something in the sand. Peter sits up, rubbing his eyes a little before crawling over to take a better look, realizing that it's a map. He recognizes the rough shape of the coast and what Tony guessed was the location of the island they were on.  
  
It occurs to him that Tony's trying to figure out how to get home and he feels a little stupid. He'd been so wrapped up in keeping Tony alive, taking care of him until he healed and wanting to show him the island that he hadn't thought about what was going to happen in the long term.  
  
Of course Tony would want to go home.. He probably had a family and friends that were worried about him. He wouldn't want to stay here, in the middle of nowhere with Peter- Not any longer than he had to at least. Eventually, he's going to be better and then he'll leave and then Peter will be all alone again.  
  
As much as he wants Tony to stay with him, he knows how hard it is to be away from your family and he knows he'll help Tony in any way he can. He'll get used to things going back to the way they were before. Eventually.  
  
“It's actually more like..” Peter picked up the small rock that he assumed represented the island, determined to help Tony get home. “Here.” When Tony gives him a questioning look, he explains. “The current on the north side of the island flows west and the current on the south side flows east.” He draw a few light lines representing the major currents he's referring to, showing that they'd have to be further south than Tony had originally estimated to be between the two.  
  
“And this..” He grabs a significantly smaller pebble to replace the rock Tony had chosen. “Is more like the right size. The whole island is only about eight square miles.”  
  
He watches Tony considering the adjustments he'd made when it actually hits him that the sun is up. “Hey, so do you think you feel up to going to the hot springs? It's about a mile, but we can take breaks if you need and I can help you..”  


* * *

  
  
He watches Peter adjust his drawing in the sand, mind already adjusting the feeble plans he’d been tentatively putting down to accommodate the new information. They aren’t as far out from the mainland as he’d feared, that’s definitely good news, but the island is also much smaller than he’d hoped. If it had been privately owned, or even more likely to be spotted from above, they’d have run a higher chance of someone stopping by.  
  
Tony’s processing the new information Peter has given him intently enough that he almost misses his offer to journey out to the hot-springs, once it actually hits him he’s feeling more than eager to go.  
  
“Absolutely.” His voice is almost insistence in its enthusiasm. “I’m ready when you’re ready, kid. Just lead the way.” He gets to his feet and brushes some of the sand off his knees. When Peter holds a hand out, an offer to help Tony out of the cave, he waves it off. He’ll ask for help if he needs it, but he’s got no idea how long the trek will be and he’s not overly eager to tire them both out, considering he’ll almost certainly need more help on the way back. He’ll get as far as he can on his own.  
  
They make it to the mouth of the cave and he’s definitely feeling sore, head pounding just a little, but it feels like he’s finally gained back most of his equilibrium. Peter’s steps are confident, clearly familiar with the path, and the way he keeps looking back to check on Tony as he leads them out of the mouth of the cave would be irritating not for the sheepish way he grins at being caught. It doesn’t stop him from continuing on doing it, though.  
  
The island is… beautiful. It shouldn’t be surprising, Tony has been to tropical islands before, but having spent all his time on this one so far hurting in a cave, fighting back panic and bad memories, subconsciously he must have expected something more sinister.  
  
As they make their way though dense but gorgeous forest he figures now is as good a time as any to start laying down the plan for Peter. It’s closer to thinking out loud, at the moment, but he’s sure the kid will appreciate knowing all the same.  
  
“So, I’ve been going over things in my head- as you saw- sooner or later, probably later, someone is going to come looking for me. They should be able to figure out I’m around Costa Rica, but that’s about it. I’m thinking we should be looking for a way to get out of here sooner than later. Is there any way to get to the East side of the island? Cruise ships pass through there and there’s a chance we could get a smoke signal going…”  
  
He’s cut off by the burn of his own lungs. He’s definitely not used to running out of breath quite so easily, his muscles are aching already as well and he knows he’s going to be tired out on the way back, but he can’t help but appreciate it after so long spent exhausted on the edge of consciousness.  


* * *

  
  
Peter tries not to be overbearing, but he can't help but sneak looks at Tony to make sure he's all right. He has a feeling the man is trying hard not to worry him since he'd broken down and there's a nagging feeling in his gut that Tony won't want to ask him for help if he needs it. He lets it go for now.  
  
He tries to keep his pace a little slower than normal, but not so slow that Tony thinks he's taking it too easy on him. Still, he figures that Tony's bare feet probably aren't used to walking on the rough ground like his are and even without injuries, it would be tough for him to keep up.  
  
“Most of the east side is shut off, the mountains are too rough to climb.. There is a peak on the southeast corner that's really high, though.” Peter stopped for a second, looking ahead with a small smile. “Do you like bananas?”  
  
Tony gives him a nonchalant shrug and though he doesn't seem too enthused, Peter know eventually he'll be happy for the variety. At the very least, Peter likes bananas, so he takes out the knife, holding it in his teeth before setting down the make-shift sack he'd put together by tying the corners of the blanket around a few food items and some water. He shimmies up the tree quickly, steadying himself before grabbing the knife to hack away at a few small bunches of the fruit.  
  
“Catch!” Peter tossed them down and Tony caught them with his good arm. Peter dropped the knife away from where Tony was standing and slid down. “We can leave most of that here and get it on the way back.” Peter snatched a few bananas from the bunch to put in the sack before they continued on their journey. “There are a bunch of other things we can pick too, so you don't get sick of eating nothing but coconut.” Peter has no clue when he'll be able to fish again without Tony getting suspicious, so they'll probably be on a fairly vegetarian diet for a while.  
  
“So, anyway, the peak is about twice as far as the hot springs. On the plus side, there's a waterfall!” Peter beamed back at Tony, walking half-backward as he spoke, chomping off a bite of the small banana.  
  
They talk a little more about the lay of the land and where the different features of the island are located so that Tony can get his barrings. He doesn't need much assistance at all until they're about half way and Peter offers to help right away. Instead, Tony insists he just needs to rest for a bit, so Peter hands him a coconut shell that he'd emptied out before. The two halves pressed together tightly formed a fairly solid seal, holding several portions of water.  


* * *

  
  
Tony can see that Peter is a little antsy about the state he’s in, but it’s going to take a lot more than some trouble catching his breath and sore feet to convince him to stop. He may- definitely- be downplaying it, but it feels insanely good to be out in the open. He’s not going to give it up, so there’s no point voicing it.  


He’s feeling perfectly distracted from all the unpleasant feelings inside of him, plus he’s really looking forward to those hot-spring Peter mentioned.  
  
Besides, he figures given that a sauna helps detox, this probably won’t be too different. Anything that’ll help smooth the road ahead is something he’s happy to try.  
  
When Peter hands him the coconut he’s grateful to have something to drink, feeling a little parched from the walk so far. Once he’s caught his breath he insists they move, the longer they stay and rest the harder it’s going to be to keep going. They don’t talk much the rest of the way to the hot-spring, Tony’s not overly eager to test the limits of his lungs that much they’ve still got time to spare for questions later on.  
  
Finally, they reach a break in the trees and the greenery gives way to a small slope of rocks which leads down into a natural basin of water. It looks murky, but inviting. Tony can feel the humid heat of it from where he’s standing and he’s all too eager to get in. Compared to the last forty-eight hours, this feels like a little slice of heaven. Perhaps he’ll buy the island when he gets home, he turns the thought over in the back of his mind, possibly a touch hysterical at the delight of the spring in front of him.  
  
His own little paradise. He chuckles to himself at the thought, it should be hard to imagine he’d feel so fond of the place he’s been stranded, but in this moment, it doesn’t seem so impossible.  
  
It’s not until he reaches the edge of the slope, with a little help from Peter, that it occurs to him he’s either going to have to go commando or walk back soaking wet. Neither option is one he’s entirely excited about. Peter’s reacted so strong to the few touches they’ve exchanged, it’s hard to imagine he’d be very comfortable with Tony dropping trou.  
  
As it turns out, his concerns are for naught.  


* * *

  
  
Peter's excited when they finally get to the spring, leading Tony down the small slope to the edge of the water. He lets the man stand on his own, hand moving to his hips as he looks over to Tony.  
  
“Do you mind if I..?” Peter stretched the elastic of his shorts a bit. “These short are the only clothing I own and the water will ruin them.”  
  
Tony stares at him, a little surprised, but waves it off. He definitely gets it, he's been a little nervous around Tony, but not because of their flimsy clothing. He's spent most of his life naked under the sea and even on land, when he's by himself it's how he prefers to be. He'd only put the shorts on in the first place because he wanted to make Tony comfortable. Now, if Tony were to swim up to him and put a hand on his arm.. He'd probably have a problem.  
  
It's the contact that makes him flustered. He was only just beginning to explore and experiment with his body when everything that happened well.. Happened. He's been alone ever since and while he's become intimately familiar with himself, the touch of another person is far, far more stimulating, as casual as the touch may be. It also doesn't hurt that Tony is incredibly attractive.  
  
He slips the shorts off, setting them on a rock far enough away that they'd be safe. He turns back to Tony with a quick smile before breaking into a run, jumping into the water, his thin frame creating an impressively large splash. When he pops back up out of the water, he slicks his hair back and rubs his face.  
  
“Are you coming in or what?”  


* * *

  
  
When Peter plucks at his waistband and strips down, Tony looks. He doesn’t stare, he’s not actually a creep, but he definitely looks. Intently. That’s a reality he really hadn’t intended to face so soon, or possibly ever. The kid is definitely attractive but he’s also definitely… a kid. Compared to Tony, at least. He’d put serious money down that says he’s old enough to be Peter’s father, which honestly just gets his mind going down another, entirely unwholesome path that he truly does not need right now.  
  
When Peter emerges, hair slicked down as he urges him to get in with a thousand watt smile, Tony thinks life is probably some kind of cruel joke specifically at his expense.  
  
He slips his shorts off and wades into the water more carefully than Peter. He tells himself he’s not going to check and see if Peter’s eyeing him up because it doesn’t matter if he is, but Tony has never been particularly great at self restraint, and today isn’t the day that changes. He glances over to him just in time to catch the look on Peter’s face before he ducks under the water, cheeks burning.  
  
Tony sighs as he lets himself recline into the hot water, eyes slipping shut, the relief that soaks through his muscles is almost enough to chase his thoughts away. He focuses on the warmth seeping the aches from his body until Peter resurfaces.  
  
“So,” He asks without opening his eyes. “How long did it take you to find this place?” He’s testing the waters, seeing how well this question is received, how Peter might react to him trying to find out a little more about how exactly he ended up here to begin with.  


* * *

  
  
Peter can't help but look, curiosity has always been a driving emotion for him and is mostly the reason that Tony is even here right now. If he hadn't been so intrigued by the man's boat, he would have kept swimming out into the deep and Tony probably would have drown, so he's counting his curiosity as an asset.

That is until Tony looks over at him and catches him staring, eyes a little heavy, cheeks more than a little red. He ducks under to water to hide, a little sad that he can't stay down indefinitely because it's freshwater, so he won't change, which unfortunately means no gills. Peter stays under the water for as long as he can and he digs into the dense, clay-like dirt, pulling up a handful. He's relieved to see Tony's eyes closed when he resurfaces as he starts to spread the mud on his face with his fingers.  
  
“Um.. Not long, a couple of days? I went out for food and I guess the minerals in the water are great for the plants 'cause there are a lot of edible plants around this area.”  
  
Peter wades slowly through the water over to Tony, tapping him on the shoulder. He looks a little surprised to see Peter's face, but gets over it quickly as Peter holds his hand out. “You should put some on. It feels nice and it'll keep you from getting sunburned. It's also really good for scrubbing dirt off if you want to get cleaned up a little.”  


* * *

  
  
Tony is distracted enough that he hardly notices Peter wade over to him, startling just a little with the gentle tap to his shoulder. He turns to see Peter to the side of him, face covered in mud. It’s a little silly, a little cute. He puts his hands out for Peter to drop a large glob of thick, heavy mud into them, trying not to wince at the feel of it.  
  
It’s not bad, exactly, but definitely not something he’s used to. He shifts most of it into one hand so he can use the other hand to scrub some over his face, standing up enough that the water lingers around his hips so he can rub the mud down his neck and chest without the water getting in the way. It’s sounds silly on paper, using mud to wash away dirt, but he can feel it scrubbing away the layer of grime on his skin.  
  
“So,” He begins while he continues scrubbing himself down. “You found this place pretty much right away, how long ago was that?” He doesn’t hide the intention from his voice, Peter has to know by now that Tony is more than a little curious to know more about him.  
  
He sinks back into the water to wash off all but the mud on his face while he waits on Peter’s reply, trying not to be anxious. Peter doesn’t reply immediately, which he didn’t expect, but it’s difficult not to be concerned he’s crossed a line, although the possibility that he might’ve just makes him more curious.  


* * *

  
  
Peter dumps a big pile of mud onto his hair, rubbing it aggressively into his scalp, happy to see that Tony is starting to enjoy himself. His fingers pause as Tony asks him more about himself. He knew the man would want to know eventually, but he's never been a good liar and he really, really doesn't want to scare Tony away with the truth. He leans back into the water, shaking and rinsing his hair, trying to think of what to say.  
  
“I'm not really sure.. I don't exactly have a calendar and the seasons aren't very distinct. I guess there's been a couple of rainy seasons, so maybe two years?” He sinks down to where his mouth is just above the edge of the water.  
  
“Please don't ask me how I got here.” He knows it's probably Tony's next question and he doesn't have an answer, at least not one that Tony won't see right through. “I don't want to lie to you, but..” He doesn't finish the sentence, he just shakes his head a little and looks down.  


* * *

  
  
Jesus, he knew it had been a while, but hearing that Peter has been here for years definitely makes Tony nervous. He cannot be here for years, there’s no scenario where he can accept that.  
  
It stings a little when Peter begs him not to ask how he ended up here, but the pleading in his voice holds back his instinct to push. The curiosity is worse than before, now. Morphing into downright worry at this point, but he owes Peter a lot and if he doesn’t want him to push, he won’t push. At least, not for now.  
  
“Alright, it’s alright. I won’t ask.” Tony promises. “Can you tell me anything else? Where you’re from? When your birthday is?” He’s all too aware that the last question he asks isn’t voiced entirely innocently, he wonders if Peter can hear the emphasis in his voice. He doesn’t want to come off like he’s… intending anything, he’s not exactly, but he’s not stupid, either. He needs to know.  
  
He tips his head back, wetting his hair so he can do the same as Peter, scrubbing mud through his hair. The feeling of his fingers massaging it over his scalp help bleed some of the tension of the last few minutes from his shoulders.  
  


* * *

  
  
Peter's grateful that Tony doesn't push it, though he can tell that he wants to. His other questions are ones that he can answer a little more easily and truthfully, so he does.  
  
“My family traveled a lot, so I'm not really from anywhere.” He starts, wondering just how much he should tell Tony. He knows the more detail he can give, the more satisfied he'll be with the answer. “I was born in New York, but we moved around Europe when I was around nine.”  
  
Peter's not sure why Tony wants to know his birthday, but he figures he must just be trying to get to know him. “My birthday's November thirteenth.” Now that he's thinking about it, he doesn't really even know how old he is. “What's the date now?”  


* * *

  
  
“New York, you don’t say. That’s where I’m living, now. Whereabouts?” Tony asks, it takes him a moment to remember that prying might make Peter nervous, rather than excited. “If you want to answer, that is. Don’t worry about it if you don’t, kid. I know you’ve got things going on.” He hesitates before continuing. “If asking for a borough is too specific, maybe you could tell me a place or two you passed through in Europe?” He offers.  
  
Considering Peter’s question about the date, Tony will admit, he wasn’t keeping close time while he was out on the ocean, but he can guess within a few days. “It’s gotta be the nineteenth or so of July, twenty-sixteen. I could be off by a day or two, but that’s about right.” He shrugs. “So that makes you…?” He trails off, hoping Peter will fill in the blank since he didn’t give him the year.  


* * *

  
  
Peter smiles a little, glad that Tony is giving him an out. “Queens.” He wasn't born there, but his Aunt May lived there for a while and Peter had spent some time there when he was younger.  
  
He really does want to tell Tony about his life, it's just that the last person that found out about him.. It didn't go well. He's hoping that if he can get close enough with Tony before he finds out, and he will find out eventually, Peter knows that- If he can get close enough with the man, maybe it won't matter so much that he's different.  
  
“We traveled mostly along the coast, we spent some time in Ireland and the U.K., but then we settled in Norway.”  
  
When Tony tells him the date, he's a little surprised. It had been longer than he thought. “Almost 18.” It's been closer to three years, but he isn't going to tell Tony that, the man had already looked at him so pitifully before when he said two years. “Maybe I'll try to keep track and I'll have a party.” He jokes, but the smile doesn't feel convincing, even to himself.  
  
“What about you? What do you do in New York?” Tony's boat had looked really nice, far more expensive than the small boats people used in the villages he grew up near.  


* * *

  
  
It warms something in Tony’s chest when Peter tells him he grew up in Queens, at least for a while. He listens to him listing off some of the places he’s visited in Europe and tries to picture a small, wide-eyed Peter running around the rolling hills of Ireland, hiking mountains in Norway with his parents. He could be entirely wrong, but meeting Peter as he has, it’s hard not to picture him as a pretty outdoorsy kid.  
  
When Peter tells him his age, Tony is… conflicted. Not even eighteen, Jesus Christ. But also, almost eighteen, that’s not as young as he’d feared. Technically not even illegal, his mind supplies, entirely unhelpful and insidious. Nonetheless, he reaches out to give Peter’s shoulder a squeeze. “Of course you’ll have a party. You’re turning eighteen, I’ll even host it myself. Trust me, I’ll make sure it’s memorable.” And- oops. That really, sincerely wasn’t meant to come off as a pass, but it certainly might’ve.  
  
He pulls back and considers Peter’s question. “I…” He trails off, finding himself at a bit of a loss. It’s been quite a while since he’s been asked to define what he does in a tidy way, he’s not even sure himself, anymore. “I’m in renewable energy.” He settles on. “And I do a little community service on the side. You know, neighbourhood watch, that type of thing.” Internally, he’s definitely more than a little amused with himself. More than is warranted, really.  
  
“How about you, kid, got any plans for the future? Any family you need to get back to?” The mud on his face is slowly drying enough that it’s beginning to tug at his skin, he dips under the water to scrub it off, giving Peter a moment to consider his answer, before he comes back up, pushing the wet hair from his face to face him.  


* * *

  
  
Peter misses everything that Tony says about himself, completely stunned. Tony wants to host his party.. In New York? Had he heard that right? A million different thoughts run through his mind: Does Tony want him to come back with him?  
  
He briefly catches Tony asking him about his family and he answers, still not completely paying attention. “No.. It's just me-” He snaps himself out of the haze to look over to Tony. “Wait- Do you want me to go with you?” He asks hesitantly, feeling the anxiety building the more he thinks about it.  
  
He's run through a handful of scenarios in his head and he can't come up with one that works. He has no way to take care of himself, scavenging is all he knows. Where would he live? He doesn't have documents, he has no job experience. There's literally no way he could survive.  
  
On top of all of that, he's not sure he even wants to go back.  


* * *

  
  
Tony is no stranger to anxiety attacks, he’s had his share, and it’s not difficult to see that Peter is spiralling. However, he’s a little hung up on Peter’s shock. What, did Peter expect him to just leave him here? Did he want to stay here? It seems unfathomable. He doesn’t miss the fact that Peter is all alone, maybe he feels like he’s got nothing to go back to?  
  
“Of course I do. I mean- I just assumed you would want to. I’m not going to leave you here, did you think I would?” Tony asks, incredulous. “Look, Peter, I don’t know what your situation is, but I can help you. If you need some help getting back on your feet, trust me, it’s no trouble at all.“ He bites his cheek for a moment, debating about going on, worried he might make things worse. He decides it’s worth the risk. “If someone is after you, Peter, it’s hard to explain but I promise, I can take care of it. You really don’t have to stay out here.”  
  
There’s a frantic edge creeping into Tony’s voice, and he realizes that he’s actually a little afraid Peter is going to say no, refuse to go. It seems insane, but the wild look in Peter’s eyes tells him it’s a real possibility. When did it start mattering so much to him, what Peter does?  
  
“You don’t have to be alone anymore, kid.” Tony finishes, taking pains to make sure his voice comes out more gently than before. There’s still a lot he doesn’t know but… Peter being alone, refusing to say how he ended up on the island. He’s got a vague picture of what might have happened, and whatever it was, it clearly wasn’t pretty.  


* * *

  
  
Peter doesn't know what to say. Tony sounds so genuine in wanting to help him and so worried about why Peter might be considering staying behind. The way Tony wants to protect him makes his chest flutter, but the man has no idea why he needs to be protected and it doesn't seem fair to put that on him.  
  
“I don't- I mean, it's not..” Maybe it's because he feels like he owes Peter for saving him. “It's not like that. I've just..” He sighs, caught between not wanting to tell Tony and wanting to calm his nerves by telling him everything. “I've been here so long and I don't have anything and I wouldn't want to be a burden to you and I like it here, I really do..”  
  
The thought of starting over somewhere new is absolutely terrifying, but the idea that Tony would be there to help him, makes him feel a little better. The idea of leaving Tony hurts more and more the more he thinks about it, but he can't let go of the fear. Even if, through some miracle, Tony never finds out about him, when they get back, Tony won't need his help anymore.. What if he goes with Tony and then he changed his mind? What if Tony thinks it's too much work or too expensive to take care of him? What if someone finds out about him and he loses Tony like he lost his family and it's all his fault again?  
  
That last thought stings even as he thinks it. He doubts he can keep his secret forever and if Tony got hurt because of him, he doesn't know if he could handle that again.  
  
“It just seems easier to stay.”  


* * *

  
  
“Peter, come on.” Tony pleads. “You’re seventeen, most people don’t even start getting their shit together until their thirties, it’s way too early to just… give up like that.” Peter won’t say anything, and Tony can’t help the frustrated groan that leaves him. “Seriously, I wish- I wish I could show you how seriously I mean it when I tell you that you wouldn’t have to worry about anything.”  
  
Tony wades closer. “Don’t you want more than this?” Tony gestures expansively and Peter flinches away, refusing to look at him. Tony feels like the biggest asshole in the world.  
  
Here he’s been promising to let Peter talk to him in his own time, fully aware that the kid is probably traumatized six ways to Sunday by whatever it is he won’t talk about, and Tony is doing the same thing he always does. Putting his own, selfish idea of what’s best for everyone before their actual feelings.  
  
“Shit- kid, I’m sorry. I didn’t anything by it, there’s nothing wrong with the island it’s just-.” Peter still won’t look at him, Tony sighs, the damage is done. “Let’s just head out.”  
  
They make their way back to the cave, and every time Peter reaches out to help him, despite the palpable tension that’s risen between them, it makes Tony’s chest ache. He still refuses to meet his eyes, and Tony is already beginning to realize how much he misses his smile.  
  
By the time they get back to the cave, the sun has mostly gone down. The fire is out, and as it’s not particularly cold out neither of is eager to start another. Tonight, it feels better to hide, he’s fairly certain Peter needs the privacy. He can hardly blame him when it’s his own fault.  
  
When he lays down to sleep it’s particularly hard to drown out his thoughts. The weight of all his recent screw-ups, his situation, bear down on him, and insidious cravings creep into his mind growing stronger by the second. What he wouldn’t give for just one drink to take the edge off of things.  


* * *

  
  
Two days later and Peter still finds himself walking on eggshells around Tony. The tension between the is palpable and Peter wants to make it better, but he doesn't know what to say. He can't help that he's scared to go back and while he likes Tony, he doesn't really know him. There's no way he can just put his fears aside and trust a stranger with his entire future without some level of doubt. He's young, but he isn't stupid.  
  
Tony's kept himself busy, plotting out and filling in a large “S.O.S.” across the sandbar while Peter keeps supplies and food stocked for them, venturing out on his own to gather some vegetables and plants so they have a decent variety. Thankfully, Tony hasn't asked him about how he goes fishing, because there's really no way he can risk going into the water with Tony right there to see him.  
  
“Maybe I should go up to the peak and start the fire?” He knows that Tony wants to put as many signals out as possible and he can get there and back faster by himself. Plus, maybe some time apart will be good for them.  


* * *

  
  
Every time Peter’s around his presence compels Tony to say something, try and make things better. He never does it, hasn’t got a clue where the hell he would start, and some part of him resents him for it. “Go for it.” Tony waves Peter off dismissively, not bothering to look up. He knows he’s probably hurting him, but what difference does it make at this point.  
  
He’s mapping out probably cruise routes, fishing routes, rigging routes for what feels like the hundredth time, trying to optimize the position of the smoke signals and maximize their limited resources. His hands won’t stop shaking and he loses his patience, throwing the stick across the beach with a frustrated growl.  
  
Fuck, he’s a mess, his head’s a mess. He just wants to get off this fucking island and he can barely even think about that because then he’s forced to think about Peter, having to leave him behind, and how stupid it is to even bother being upset about it when the kid wants nothing to do with him. Smart of him, honestly.  


* * *

  
  
Peter stands at the edge of the trees watching Tony, obviously frustrated and Peter feels guilty. He should apologize or something, maybe try to explain himself a little more.. He just doesn't want to risk making things worse.  
  
Instead, he takes off for the peak, trying to think of what he could possibly do or say to make it so that Tony isn't upset with him. It's almost a three hour walk and then it takes him a couple of hours to gather wood once he gets there, setting up a fire large enough to last through the night. Their plan is to alternate between the fire on the peak and the one on the beach, since the peak is so far away and it would be difficult to keep it going every night.  
  
It takes the better part of the day before he gets back to the beach and the sun is starting to set as he walks over to where Tony is sitting, resting in the sand. “Do you want to call it a night? I grabbed some different stuff on the way back.. Leaves, herbs and mushrooms- I was thinking of making soup?”  
  
Tony doesn’t respond, simply standing to walk past Peter.  
  
On the way back, Peter tries to make conversation with him, trying to gather the courage to apologize. He'd spent the entire day thinking about it and he knows he needs to clear the air, but it's hard because Tony doesn't seem to want to talk to him, giving him nothing but one-syllable responses and absolutely no eye contact.  
  
“Did you see the fire on the peak? I used some thick leaves to make the smoke really dark, so if it's still going tomorrow, it should be really visible.” He tried to engage Tony, hoping that a successfully completed part of his plan would lift his spirits.  
  
“Yeah, I saw it.” Tony just shrugged.  
  
“So, how is the signal coming? I can help tomorrow if you need.” Peter tried again.  
  
“Fine.” Tony snaps.  
  
They walk in silence until Peter can see the mouth of the cave and for the moment, he's thankful that he'll soon have the distraction of cooking to take his mind off of Tony. Peter sighs. As much as he wants to ignore the situation and hope for it to go away, he hates to see Tony so stressed and he really, really misses talking to him.  
  
“I'm sorry, Tony.” Peter took a few steps in front of the man, stopping him in his tracks at the edge of the cave. “I know you want to help me and I haven't made it easy for you.. I'm just scared.”  
  
He waits for a long moment, watching intently as Tony keeps his eyes forward and Peter can see his jaw tightening. His shoulders slump forward a little, exasperated. “I don't know what your problem is, Tony. I never expected this to happen and I don't know what I'm doing, okay? I'm sorry, I'm doing my best.." Finally, Tony responds, but it's not what Peter expects.  
  
“What’s my problem?!” He looks at Peter incredulously. “Are you kidding, right now, you want to know what my fucking problem is, why don’t you look in a goddamn mirror. Oh wait! There are none, because we’re on a fucking deserted island that you don’t want to leave.”  
  
Peter is taken aback by the outburst, taking a small step backward when he feels the tremor beneath his feet that he's almost certain isn't from Tony's echoing voice.  
  
“Seriously, I try to do one good thing, help one person and surprise, surprise I pick the one person on earth who defies all logic and wants to stay out here in the middle of nowhere, with nothing, with no one.” Tony keeps talking animatedly with his hands.  
  
“Tony, we need to go back outside..” Peter tries to tell him, feeling the familiar rumble of volcanic activity below his bare feet. Sometimes it would pass, but after the last time, he doesn't want to be in the cave just in case it turns into a full-blown quake.  
  
“I mean, sure, everything else is a mess, why would you be any different?! Why do I even try?” Tony threw his hands up in defeat, clearly not listening to a word Peter is saying as he grabs the man's arm to lead him outside. Tony pulls his elbow back, taking a step back, continuing his rant just inside the mouth of the cave.  
  
“Tony..” Peter's voice is louder now and he's focusing more on listening to their surroundings than what he's saying as he sees the dust starting to fall from above them. “Tony!”  
  
“Can’t save anyone, not without screwing someone else up worse, can’t even save someone without screwing myself up worse! Can’t even keep anyone around when they’re contractually obligated to be there, let alone anyone else. Why the hell would you want to come ba-”  
  
There's a loud grinding noise just moments before the cave starts to collapse and Peter uses the split second that he has to shove Tony out of the way before a large piece of the mountain falls down, right where he's standing.  


* * *

  
  
One second Tony is yelling, spiraling, not even paying enough attention to register what Peter’s saying- he doesn’t want to hear it, and the next Peter is shoving him back hard enough that hitting the ground knocks the wind out of him. Everything moves so quick that it takes his brain a moment to catch up but the second it does it begins racing a mile a minute.  
  
“Peter?!” He calls out, panicked. He can’t see anything through the dust and dirt filling the air. “Peter? Peter- shit, kid.” His voice breaks. “Please be alive.” He’s not sure he’s ever felt like such a piece of shit in his life, not sure he’s ever _been_ such a piece of shit in his life. Peter has saved his life, twice- no, three times, now, and the minute he tries to apologize for something he didn’t even do, Tony rips into him.  
  
He stumbles to his feet, calling out, frantic and hopeless. This can’t happen. Those absolutely cannot be his last words to Peter, he deserves so much better than that, especially from Tony. Tony should never have fought with him in the first place, never have _pushed_ him in the first place, he’d never done anything to warrant any of the bullshit Tony had thrown his way. Hell, he didn’t even have to save Tony to begin with, but he did, and now he’s probably dead, because of him.  
  
Tony is just about ready to be sick when a gust of wind blows the dust just clear enough that he can see Peter, not crushed beneath the enormous boulder that had fallen as Tony had feared but-impossibly, standing under it, keeping it suspended.  
  
He looks as shocked as Tony feels and more than a little frightened. For a moment they both just stare at each other, neither of them able to move past the fact that Peter is somehow _alive_ right now. Peter lets out a stuttered breath and Tony steps forward on instinct, reaching out as Peter shakily places the boulder down. Tony pulls him close and wraps him in a hug so tight he can hardly breathe, pulling him close by the waist as one hand comes up to wrap itself tight over his nape.  
  
Tony buries his face in Peter’s hair, breathing deep as Peter clutches at him hard enough to hurt, Tony can feel him shaking with adrenaline in his arms, he imagines he’s not much better off but it’s impossible to focus on anything besides Peter, warm and breathing and alive in his arms. He would have died saving Tony, and Tony had taken him for granted.  
  
He pulls back just enough slip his hand down to Peter’s jaw, catching his eyes for a split second before he leans in to press their mouths together with bruising force. He pours every ounce of feeling he has into the kiss, walking them back until Peter is pressed up against the boulder that should’ve killed him, he lets out a small gasp against Tony’s lips when his back hits the rock, nails digging into Tony’s back as his grip tightens.  
  
They’re both breathing hard, sharing breath as Tony guides the kiss deeper, licking and nipping at Peter’s lips and tongue, trying to soak in the taste of him, the feeling of him. Tony’s fingers have curled around the hair at the nape of Peter’s neck, likely painful but it’s not important enough to either of them to care, and he uses the other to hoist him up just enough that he rests above Tony’s hips.  
  
“You could’ve died.” He whispers, words broken by their kisses and full of vehement anguish against Peter’s lips.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is full of all SORTS of fun stuff. Enjoy!

When the dust settles, Peter stares at Tony and sees the pain on his face turn to a shock that matches his own. He'd thought, in that split second that he pushed Tony away, that was it, he was going to die, but here he is, holding a boulder that weighs... He has no clue, but it feels lighter than Tony had when he pulled him out of the water and he knows that's not right...  
  
As Tony walks over to him, he sets the huge rock down and notices briefly that it's almost as tall as he is. He's confused and scared and he can feel himself shaking as Tony envelops him in his arms, pulling him closer than ever before in a way that feels familiar but so, so different. He can feel the desperation in Tony's grip as he holds him tight, breathing heavily into his hair as Peter wraps his arms around the man's back.  
  
He's clinging to Tony for dear life and for a split second he thinks he's pulling away and he tightens his grip before realizing that Tony's hand is cupping his jaw, tilting his head. His mind is nowhere near caught up with his body as Tony's lips are crashing into his, his body moving impossibly closer until Peter feels caught between the cool, hard rock and Tony's body, soft and warm by comparison and he gasps at the contrast.  
  
He feels dizzy with a need for air, breaths coming in ragged gulps, but the thought of stopping doesn't even cross his mind as he tastes Tony's tongue against his in what seems to be a frantic attempt to devour him. The grip in his hair is bordering on painful, but it's just another reminder that he's alive and he revels in the feeling as he lets Tony take what he needs.  
  
When Tony's hand slips from his waist, over the curve of his ass, fingers digging into the soft flesh of his thighs to lift him up, he adjusts his grip, hands grabbing the sides of Tony's neck in an attempt to keep him close as he whimpers into his lips.  
  
Tony sounds completely broken when he speak and Peter kisses him again, more slowly, taking time to show Tony that he's okay, pausing when the taste turns bitter and salty. He leans back, thumb brushing the tear away from his cheek, feeling his own eyes burning.  
  
“It's okay... I'm okay.” He rests his forehead against Tony's, closing his eyes. “I'm alive, it's okay.” He says out loud for both their benefit.  


* * *

  
  
Tony grips Peter’s thigh, he’s probably squeezing hard enough to bruise, focused on Peter’s words as he’s reminding both of them that he’s here, alive. He’s okay. Tony knows that Peter’s right, he’s right here, alive and warm against him, but he’s wrong. It’s not okay. It’s not okay at all.  
  
“I’m sorry.” The words spill out of him, voice ragged. “I was such an asshole. Christ, you didn’t deserve that. You deserve so much better. Better than me, than any of this.” Tony ducks his head down so he can hide his face in Peter’s neck, desperate to get as close to him as he can, still wetting his skin with tears. He presses chaste, apologetic kisses into the soft skin under Peter’s jaw, trailing down his throat, whispering his regrets into his skin as he goes.  
  
When he reaches Peter’s clavicle he brings his head back up, resting his forehead against Peter’s own, again, as his hand slips out of the tight grip in Peter’s hair to stroke reverently over his jaw.  
  
Some distant part of him is genuinely astonished that Peter hasn’t pushed him away. He can’t imagine why Peter still wants him, or why he ever started to at all, after everything he’s put him through, but he’s going to be better. He’s going to be as worthy of his feelings, whatever they are, as he can be, from now on.  


* * *

  
  
Tony apologizes to him and he pulls the man closer, gripping the back of his head tightly to comfort him as he buries his face in Peter's neck. When he starts to place light kisses along his neck and down his chest, Peter shivers at the feeling of his stubble against his sensitive skin.  
  
When Tony pulls away, he looks at Peter in a way that tells the boy that he really means it. Peter moves a hand on top of Tony's, stroking his fingers over the back of it, kissing him softly and quickly before breaking away.  
  
“It's okay, I'm not mad...” Peter swallows hard. “I know I haven't told you everything, but... I don't know what happened. I wasn't keeping that from you, I swear...”  
  
He shakes a little as he thinks about it. He's glad to not be dead, but he can't even wrap his head around what he's just done and he doesn't want Tony to think... Well, he doesn't know what he doesn't want Tony to think, because he _is_ still hiding things from him, but not this. This is new, even for him.  


* * *

  
  
Tony sighs and pulls Peter in close one more time, hugging him tight. He really should be more angry, Tony almost needs him to be, needs to be made to hurt for everything he put Peter through, but maybe he’s still too in shock to care. Considering he apparently didn’t know about his super-strength, Tony can understand that, he’d seen the look on his face and he knows he’s not lying when he says he hadn’t been hiding it.  
  
He finally pulls back, carefully letting Peter slip back down onto his feet. They’re going to have to talk about this, they’re going to have to talk about _everything_ , but it’s clear the revelation about his apparent powers is the biggest weight on Peter’s mind, at the moment, so Tony will do his best to help him cope with it.  
  
Missing the warmth of him but determined to help, he laces his fingers through Peter’s and pulls him away from the boulder.  
  
“I know you weren’t, I saw your face. Come on, sit down.” He guides Peter down to sit in the hot sand, his hands are still chilly with the shock and Tony’s hoping it might do him some good. He sits close enough that he can wrap an arm around Peter so the boy can lean into him.  
  
Tony has about a million questions he’d like to ask, but he starts with the most important one, squeezing Peter tight as he speaks. “Hey, are you okay? No bullshit?”  


* * *

  
  
Peter sighs, relieved that Tony believes him. The last thing he wants is for Tony to be upset with him again, especially after what had just happened. When Tony sets him down, he already misses the feeling of the man's fingers clenching into his skin, but holding hands and being pulled against Tony's chest is a good substitute.  
  
“I'm okay...” He says and he knows it doesn't sound all that convincing. “I mean... I've always known I was a little _different_ , just...” Peter laughs a little as the adrenaline begins to subside and his heart starts to beat a little slower. “Not that like.”  
  
He looks up at Tony and he realizes that Tony isn't running away from him, in fact, he seems oddly calm about what happened. “You're not... Freaking out?”  


* * *

  
  
Peter seems genuinely surprised that Tony’s not running, it’s almost enough to make him laugh. He grins back at Peter, rueful.  
  
“I’ve seen _way_ weirder stuff than some surprise super-strength, Peter. It’s going to take a lot more than that to freak me out.” He promises. Tony finds himself wondering, as he often does, how it is Peter managed to be around people until just a few years ago without much knowledge of just how weird the world has become since New York.  
  
“Are you sure nothing like that has ever happened before? Even to on a smaller scale, maybe you didn’t notice when it’s been so long since you had someone to compare your strength to…” Tony is mostly wondering out loud, unsure what might help Peter begin to figure things out. He knows there’s plenty of inhumans, enhanced people, whatever the world wants to call them, out there, but as far as he understands it, their powers usually manifest around puberty.  
  
Still, there’s no hard and fast rules when it comes to things like this, so it’s not like there’s much they can rule out.  


* * *

  
Peter nods, remembering some of the crazy things he'd heard about happening in New York. Maybe if Tony survived an alien attack on the city he lives in, Peter doesn't seem so weird. There's an odd sense of hope that comes with the thought that maybe he can tell Tony and not have to worry about scaring him away or being hurt.  
  
“No, nothing like that.” He shakes his head, trying to think back as he stares down, staring at his own hands. Being in the water definitely skewed his sense of strength a bit, but on land it's always been the same, which is to say, not very much. “When I carried you to the cave the first night, it wasn't easy.” He grins up at Tony. “You're kind of heavy.”  


* * *

  
  
Tony looks down at Peter with raised brows before he lets his head fall back with a laugh. “Yeah, you just lifted a two ton chunk of mountain and _I_ was heavy. Sounds about right.” He pinches Peter’s side a little, just to make him jump, letting out a burst of startled laughter, and smothers his own laughs in Peter’s hair with a sigh.  
  
“Well,” He starts slowly, lifting his head to look down at Peter again so he can gauge his reaction, aware of the fact that he’s broaching a more sensitive subject. “Was anyone else in your family gifted? The gene that causes these- anomalies, it tends to skip a generation, but it’s usually hereditary.”  


* * *

  
  
Peter smiles as Tony laughs, and for the first time it doesn't seem at least partially forced. It crinkles his entire face from his lips to his eyes and nose and though he only get a glimpse of it before the man hides it away, it's on of the most beautiful things he's ever seen and it sort of takes his breath away.  
  
He forces himself to focus as Tony asks him a question and he shakes his head. “Not that I know of...” He wishes he could be more helpful, but he didn't have a large family, it had only been him and his parents for a long while until his mother got sick and his Aunt May started to take care of him. None of them had ever mentioned anything like this.  


* * *

  
  
Peter doesn’t seem to have any answers, and in this it seems there might not be much to know. Some people just have powers, and some don’t. How he got them and when they appeared wouldn’t change how grateful Tony is that they saved his life.  
  
“Ahh, well.” He shrugs, dropping down to press a kiss to Peter’s forehead. “I’m glad, anyways.” Peter smiles up at him like he still can’t believe Tony is sticking around, he wants to kiss him until every trace of disbelief is chased from his mind.  
  
Unfortunately, they’ve got things that need to get done, and they probably both need a moment to process things. They allow themselves a while longer to linger on the beach, recovering and teasing and settling into this change between them, before Tony gets to his feet, pulling Peter up so they can keep working on their near-complete distress signal.  
  
Tony steals glances over at Peter while they work, not bothering to be subtle anymore. Now and then he’ll catch him looking back and it’s impossible not to smile at the way Peter’s cheeks still turn pink at being caught, even though he no longer looks away, grinning instead.  
  
He knows that kissing Peter isn’t the wisest thing he’s ever done, he’s still determined to bring him back and things are going to get more than a little complicated between them if he manages to get him back to New York, but- the mournful, sickening panic that had filled his chest when he’d thought the rock had collapsed on top of Peter. It doesn’t matter how complicated things might be, he’s worth it.  


* * *

  
  
Peter can't help but sneak glances as Tony works, thinking of everything they'd been through that day. When he'd woken up, Tony wanted nothing to do with him and now, Tony _wants_ him, at least he thinks so. Remembering Tony's lips on his neck lights up his cheeks, but he holds Tony's gaze when he's caught, smiling shyly at him as if the man can read his mind and knows what he's thinking.  
  
He isn't _totally_ inexperienced, he had a friend in Norway, that he had become close with and they had done... Things. He would sneak out of the ocean to see him and they kissed and touched, but it was nothing like the way Tony had handled him. He and Christian had fumbled, it was as nervous and uncertain as it was exciting, but Tony had a confidence about him. He knew just where to grab and what to do with his mouth to make Peter crumble beneath him and he couldn't help but want more.  
  
He looks up to the darkening sky and leaves the man alone just long enough to gather what he needs, building a fire a bit away from the work they'd done, not wanting to set it up in flames and ruin it. Maybe tomorrow they could see how badly the cave was damaged, but tonight it was too risky.  
  
“I guess we're not having soup tonight...” He muses as Tony joins him next to the fire, sitting close by his side in the sand and Peter leans against him instantly, like it's something they've always done.  


* * *

  
  
While Peter is gone, Tony lets his mind wander. It’s dangerous, the way he feels a little less concerned about getting back sooner than later. They can’t stay out here, Tony has people relying on him, people he’s letting down and putting in danger the longer he’s away, but something inside him recoils at the thought of leaving Peter behind.  
  
He understands that Peter is scared, he won’t tell him why, exactly, but Tony has the feeling that they’re getting there. Something in Peter seems to have settled, finally. He’s starting to trust him more, and Tony quite literally trusts Peter with his life. Tonight he doesn’t want to make things too heavy, but in the next few days, he thinks, once the surrealism of today’s events has worn off, he’ll explain everything to Peter. The Avengers, Iron Man, Stark Industries, he’s hoping that Peter will have enough background knowledge to know that he’s telling the truth.  
  
Eventually, he finds Peter sitting by the fire and drops down close to him. Peter leans into his side and Tony wraps an arm around him so his hand can rest on his hip.  
  
“Hey,” He nudges Peter lightly, “I’m not going to- you don’t have to decide right now, but can you promise me that you’ll at least think about coming home with me?” He just needs to know that Peter will think about it, give him something to work with, and he can leave the rest of their concerns for tomorrow.  


* * *

  
  
Peter slides back just a little, making enough room for him to look up at Tony. He brings his fingers up to Tony's chin, touching delicately against the stubble of his chin. He looks Tony in the eyes, nodding before his gaze dips down to the man's lips as he leans forward.  
  
He sighs against Tony's tongue, his hand wrapping around the back of the man's neck, pulling him down, closer. Peter feels Tony's grip on his hip tugging him in and his lips fall open in a heavy exhale.  
  
He _does_ want to go back with Tony. As scared as he is, when he thinks back to the way Tony held him, so securely, it doesn't seem so bad. What scares him more now is the thought that Peter might never again get to feel Tony's breath against his lips or that iron grasp that makes him feel so safe and wanted.  


* * *

  
  
When Peter leans in to kiss him Tony doesn’t hesitate to return it, pulling him in close and deepening the kiss. He keeps a tight grip on his hip and reaches over to run the other hand up his side, kneading at his waist. When Peter keens into the kiss arousal flares through him and Tony decides to better their position, spurred on by the force of his desire to have more of Peter’s skin against his own.  
  
He drops his hand from Peter’s waist to his thigh and maneuvers him so he’s straddling Tony’s lap. The kiss breaks as they move and seeing Peter’s eyes blown wide tightens the building knot of warm pleasure in Tony’s gut. He reaches up to tug Peter back down into the kiss, messier this time, a little bit of an urgent edge to it and definitely more intent than a moment ago.  
  
His hands travel over Peter’s warm, perfect skin, running down the expanse of his back, trailing over his sides, thumbing at the crease of his hips, just above the band of his shorts. He’s amazed his hands aren’t shaking with how badly he wants to dip below the fabric and feel him properly. He tightens his grip on Peter’s hips and pulls him down so he slips further, fully seated in Tony’s lap, creating a satisfying pressure he can draw friction from. Hands trailing down Peter’s thighs so his fingers can slip just up under the legs of his shorts, not too far, just enough that the scrape of his nails should work as intended, make Peter shiver.  
  
It’s not difficult to feel the way Peter is practically vibrating out of his skin, and the want to get his hands on him properly is driving him crazy. Peter fits against him so perfect, like he was made to be here, panting and squirming in Tony’s lap. He drops his head to press kisses to the long, smooth column of Peter’s neck while one hand slips up so he can drag his nails over Peter’s hip.  


* * *

  
  
Peter lets Tony lift him, trusting that he knows what to do, what will feel good, and he doesn't disappoint. He breaks apart from the man just long enough to settle into his lap and he feels a heat spreading through him like a fire, bubbling under his skin wherever Tony touches him, and Tony touches him almost everywhere. _Almost_...  
  
Tony's hands roam his back and he arches into the touch. His muscles twitch as the man traces his hips, teasing the edge of his shorts and Peter's trying to keep from squirming, but he can't help it. When Tony pulls him closer, he runs his hands up Peter's thighs and under his shorts and his entire body trembles as his hands drag across his skin.  
  
He can feel himself straining against his raggedy shorts, the fabric teasing him as he aches for Tony's hands to just move a little closer... The man's lips are on his neck again and tilts his had to the side, wrapping his arms around Tony, trying his best not to claw him, but he feels himself on the edge and he just needs him to be a little closer...  
  
Tony's nails scrape his hips and he lets out an embarrassing moan into his ear as he comes, wetness spreading across the front of shorts and his face turns bright red before he buries it in Tony's shoulder. He feels the man stiffen below him and he's not sure if he should have done that or not. He catches his breath for a moment before pulling his arms back, resting them against Tony's chest, face still hidden.  
  
“Sorry...”  


* * *

  
  
Peter shudders and moans on top of him and it’s so unexpected that it’s not until his body goes lax as he hides his burning face in Tony’s shoulder that he realizes what happened. For a moment he’s shocked, a little dumbfounded, then he can’t help letting out burst of laughter. He pulls Peter’s face up so he can lean forward to kiss him before he mistakes Tony’s laughter for anything mean-spirited.  
  
He pulls back, Peter’s face still in his hand.  
  
“Don’t be sorry.” He says with a downright lecherous grin. “You’ve got no idea how hot it is that you’re _that_ desperate, kid.” The blush isn’t fading from Peter’s cheeks, and he looks like he hasn’t quite figured out whether what Tony’s saying makes things better or worse.  
  
“I mean,” Tony continues. “I figured you were a virgin, but that was… well, let’s just say you’re pretty damn sensitive.” Tony nips at his lips. “It’s not a bad thing, I promise.”  
  
He kisses Peter again, gentler this time as he lets his own arousal wind down, careful not to press up against Peter where he’s probably feeling fairly oversensitive. Eventually, he pulls back with a kiss to his cheek.  
  
“You’re probably gonna want to go get cleaned up before we find something to eat.” He suggests with a smile, just a little teasing.  


* * *

  
  
His face is still heated as Tony speaks and Peter pouts at being teased. “I'm not _desperate_ , you're just really...” Peter gulps, not really knowing the words to describe Tony. The hottest person he's ever seen? Good with his hands? An amazing kisser? All of the above? “It's been a while.”  
  
He changes the subject. “And besides, I'm not a virgin...” He declares matter-of-factually as he stands.  
  
Adjusting himself in his soiled shorts, he realizes he doesn't have many options. He doesn't want to risk transforming in front of Tony, so the ocean's out. They don't have freshwater near them and even if they did, he didn't want to go to bed wet and covered in sticky sand. He tugs the shorts down, using them to wipe himself before tossing them to the side. He can wash them at the spring tomorrow, tonight he's just going to be naked.  
  
Naked and next to Tony all night. He shivers a little at the thought, but smiles as he sits down in front of Tony. “What about you? I could...” Peter looks down to the still semi-full bulge in Tony's short and bites his lip.  


* * *

  
  
Peter strips down to nothing and Tony doesn’t bother pretending not to stare. Not only is he allowed to, now, but he’s still just a little too turned on to have much shame about it. Which, to be fair, it’s not like he has much to begin with, he’ll admit, but still. Peter sends a pointed, appreciative look to where Tony is hard in his shorts, lip trapped between his teeth, and there’s nothing Tony would like more than for Peter to get him off, honestly.  
  
Unfortunately, he also has devastatingly terrible self-control when presented with such a wonderfully easy opportunity to tease Peter, try and see how far he can make the flush on his cheeks travel. Maybe, just maybe, he can have his cake and eat it too? He certainly intends to try.  
  
“No?” He asks, thinking back to Peter insisting that he’s not a virgin, inflecting his tone with more doubt than he truly feels. “You could’ve fooled me. I mean, I’ve heart of a hair-trigger, but that was really something else.” He grins, maybe a little- or, a lot- smug. Peter stares at him, then rolls his eyes, looking like he’s about to rescind his offer to get Tony off. A risk he chose to take, but definitely not the outcome he’s hoping for.  
  
“Hey, come on, no, no, no.” Tony quells, taking Peter’s hands in his and looking back at him imploringly, only mostly managing to wipe the grin off his face. “I mean, you kind of handed that one up to me, I’m sorry. I’m only human.” Peter doesn’t seem genuinely upset, so he hopes he didn’t take things too far. “Trust me, virgin or not, there is quite literally nothing I want more right now than for you to do- well, whatever you want, honestly. There’s not much I’ll say no to if it’s you doing it.” He presses light kisses to Peter’s knuckles before speaking again, a little more serious, this time.  
  
“As long as you want to, for real. Don’t feel obligated, I’ll live.”  


* * *

  
  
Peter wonders if he's going to have to get used to Tony teasing him. He considers teaching Tony a lesson and stepping away, but he really, really wants to touch him.  
  
“I want to...” He assures Tony when he's done taunting him, his hands running up the man's thighs. He's a little nervous and Tony's eyes watching him aren't helping, so he leans forward to kiss him, feeling the pressure lifting as both of their eyes close.  
  
Maybe he is teasing him back just a little when his hands pass by the front of Tony's shorts to run up and down his chest before finally settling on his shorts. “You should take these off before they get ruined...” Tony apparently agrees because he lifts his hips, letting Peter remove them from his waist and toss them aside.  
  
Peter takes a long look and Tony's thick cock and it makes him hungry in a way he's never known before. He was going to just touch Tony, to take him in his hand and kiss him until he climaxed, but now he wants more. He swallows hard before kissing Tony again, just a quick peck and then his lips move on, down his neck and chest, his navel to his thighs where he stops to mumble a quick word.  
  
“I know I said I'm not a virgin, but... I haven't done _this_ before...” His eyes flick back up to Tony, half expecting the man to tease him again, but instead he finds his expression serious, eyes heavy and dark with lust. Tony murmurs a few encouraging words and runs a hand gently through Peter's hair and he reaches out to grip him firmly.  
  
Once last deep breath and he bends downward, placing a loose open kiss on the sensitive head, tasting the small wet droplet that had gathered there, spurred on by the way Tony's breath catches in his throat. He expects it to taste bad, but really it's just salty, which he's more than used to. It's familiar in a way, he think as he runs his flattened tongue over the slit to get a better taste and Tony's hand in his hair tightens a little.  
  
He smiles to himself before taking the tip into his mouth and suckling it. He might not have done this before, but he knows that it feels better for him when it's wet and he assumes it's probably the same for Tony, so he lets a little it of spit drip out of his mouth so that he can move his hand as he slowly takes Tony deeper.  
  
_Who's desperate now?_ He think to himself as Tony groans, quickly losing control.  


* * *

  
  
Once he’s naked, the way Peter eyes his cock fills him with warm anticipation. He looks _eager_ and just a touch nervous. It’s a good look on him.  
  
He makes his way down Tony’s body and by the time he’s at the crease of his hips it takes a not-inconsiderable amount of self control not to wrap his fingers around Peter’s hair and drag his mouth where he wants it. He’d never do that, but it’s been a while since he’s wanted anyone with this much intensity, and Peter’s natural inclination towards being just a bit of a tease, while unintentional (he’s pretty sure), is killing him. Not that he minds dragging things out.  
  
His mouth reaches the sensitive inside of Tony’s thighs and he glances up, looking a little more unsteady than he did a few moments ago.  
  
“I know I said I’m not a virgin, but… I haven’t done _this_ before…”  
  
He doesn’t sound afraid, just a little unbalanced. Tony reaches out, running a hand through Peter’s soft hair, promising him he’s doing great, that no matter what he does Tony is going to like it because it’s _him_. Peter rewards him with a small smile and Tony’s hand comes to rest at the base of his skull, cradling his head while his thumb brushes back and forth over his scalp.  
  
Peter reaches out to take him in hand and Tony doesn’t have much time to appreciate the little relief that offers before Peter is leaning in to mouth at the head of his cock. Tony lets out a shaky breath, his head wants to tip back but he can’t look away as Peter drags his tongue over the slit of him, tasting, exploring. It’s impossible not to tighten his grip a little and when Peter smiles to himself as he does, Tony moans.  
  
He watches as Peter slips his mouth over the head of him, suckling and tonguing and just a little sloppy. Peter begins to slip down further and the sight of his lips stretching around him as Peter pushes himself to take more of his cock into his mouth, somehow managing to look pleased with himself despite his very full mouth. Tony lets out a drawn out groan, fingers flexing in Peter’s hair as he resists pulling too hard, and Peter glances up at him.  
  
“ _Fuck_ , Peter.” Tony moans emphatically. “You don’t know how good you look, right now.” Or maybe he does, he thinks as Peter continues to try and sink down further. He’s got to know what he’s doing to Tony, at least. It would, quite literally, be impossible to miss when the evidence is currently occupying his mouth.  
  
Peter lets out a soft moan around his cock as he continues to sinking down onto it over and over again. Tony can feel him experimenting, figuring out where he wants his tongue to go, how hard he wants to sink, whether or not the barest brush of teeth is acceptable. The combined knowledge that Peter is doing those things primarily because he’s _never done this before_ and mixed sensations have frissons of pleasure flitting through his abdomen, pressure building in the pit of his gut.  
  
Peter gets a little over-confident, sinking down too far and choking so he has to pull back, he’s coughing, eyes watering just a little, and there’s a thin string of saliva and pre-come still connecting his lips to Tony’s cock. It’s… definitely a sight. He leans down, reaching out with his other hand to run his fingers over his cheek, pressing a kiss to his forehead.  
  
“You alright? Sure you want to keep going?” He’s pretty sure Peter does, but he needs him to know that it’s alright if he’s overwhelmed himself.  


* * *

  
  
The taste and feel of Tony in his mouth is addicting. The further he takes him down, the way he twists his tongue, it has Tony writing underneath him and he can feel the hand in his hair struggling not to lose control, threatening to yank him forward and take over. He wants to give Tony everything he can, wants to take him deeper and bring him over the edge.  
  
He takes a deep breath through his nose before sinking down even further, pushing himself to take as much as he can, but it's more than he can handle and he coughs. When he pulls back, a small part of him expects Tony to be disappointed that he couldn't do it, but the look on his face is anything but as he thumbs Peter's cheek and kisses his forehead.  
  
He rubs the back of his hand across his mouth, wiping away the mess as he nods. He wants to give Tony as much pleasure as he'd felt and while he might not be as skilled as the older man, he isn't one to give up easily.  
  
“Could you...?” Peter slides Tony's hand back into his hair and when the man tugs it slightly, Peter tilts his head back, eyes flickering as he lets out a small moan. Tony gently lowers his head back down and he strokes the base of Tony's cock, focusing his attention on the head as his other hand joins Tony's in his hair, pushing himself down a little until Tony gets the hint.  
  
Tony starts to guide him, dragging him up and down by his hair, careful to keep his grip loose and thrusts shallow as he starts to roll his hips upward to meet Peter's mouth. It's easier to relax with Tony taking the lead and Peter can tell that he likes it if the throbbing and twitching against his tongue is any indication that he's getting close.  


* * *

  
  
Peter makes it clear that he wants Tony to take control and it’s a special kind of torture, being handed the reigns and still having to resist the urge to fuck Peter’s face as hard and deep as he wants to. The look of earnest concentration on his face as Tony guides him over the length of his cock is enough to get his hips moving ever so slightly, small thrusts pushing up to meet his mouth.  
  
When Peter looks up at him, seeking affirmation that he’s doing well, Tony groans. It’s plain as day how good Peter wants to be for him and the thought is enough to make him push a little harder, a little deeper. Peter sputters a little around his cock but makes no moves to pull back. Tony picks up the pace and Peter is making small, wet, satisfied noises around him, like he’s pleased by the rougher treatment, happy to see Tony’s control beginning to slip.  
  
Tony’s mind wanders, just a little, to what it might be like once they’ve done this a few times. Peter already takes him so well, he can only imagine how perfect he’s going to be on his cock once he’s had some more practice.  
  
The thought has his grip tightening and instead of flinching, Peter moans, going a little more lax. Tony can feel his balls tightening and he knows he hasn’t got much longer left in him, now.  
  
He doesn’t want to overwhelm Peter, but he can’t quite bear to lose the sensation of his mouth on his cock entirely. He pulls back just enough that the head of his cock is lingering around Peter’s lips.  
  
“Shit, use your hands and just- _yes._ ” Peter picks up on what he wants without him having to finish his thought, working him with his hands while he presses messy, open mouthed kisses and sucks to the head of Tony’s cock, looking up at him all the while. He really is a little too natural at this for his own good.  
  
His lips are swollen and his cheeks are red, pupils still blown wide, and it’s that, knowing that this is getting him off, too, that he actually, genuinely _enjoys_ having his mouth stuffed full of Tony’s cock, that does it. His orgasm punches the breath from his lungs, shuddering and tightening his fist more than he means to, coating Peter’s tongue and lips in come, messily enough that some gets smudged over his cheek and chin.  
  
When he’s finished, he relaxes his hand right away, running it reverently through Peter’s hair. He pulls his hips back before he gets too oversensitive, Peter lets him slip away. He slips his tongue out to lick the come off his lips, looking almost _curious.  
  
_ “Oh my god.” Tony groans, incredulous. He shifts forward, pulling Peter close, trailing his thumb through the come that’s smeared over the corner of Peter’s mouth and onto his cheek, collecting it and pushing his thumb back into Peter’s mouth. Peter smiles, a little devious, a tiny bit bashful, and sucks it clean. Tony takes his hand back and kisses Peter harder and messier than any point before, no holding back.  
  
“You’re too perfect for words, you know that?” Tony breathes against his lips between kisses.  


* * *

  
It doesn't take Peter long to decide that he loves the way Tony tastes as he comes, warm and salty across his lips. He doesn't hesitate when Tony's thumb feeds him more, not wanting to waste a single drop that Tony has to give him, sucking the digit clean. The way Tony unravels, kissing Peter in a way that's so raw and uninhibited is all Peter never knew he needed and he hates that they have to stop.  
  
When Tony tells him he's perfect, he tries to bury the nagging thought in the back of his head that asks _would he still think that if he knew_? He does his best to ignore it, not wanting Tony to sense that he's anything but completely content. Besides, if he can manage get back to New York without changing, Tony doesn't ever need to find out.  
  
He breaks away from Tony, as much as he doesn't want to, to get them the bag of food that he'd collected earlier in the day. Luckily the bag had been on his back when the cave collapsed and was fine, because it was the only food that wasn't trapped in the cave and it was getting too dark to go out and find more.  
  
After dinner, Peter curls up to go to sleep with Tony's chest pressed against his back, a muscular arm over his hips. It's a warm night and between the fire and Tony, he sleeps more comfortably than he has in a long time. The next morning, they decide to check the cave to see how bad the damage is and if they can get back inside, at least long enough to get their supplies and food.  
  
The boulder Peter had caught was the largest and as he eyes it, he wonders if maybe it had been a fluke that he'd been able to hold it? When he grips it tightly and begins to drag it out, unbothered by the massive weight, he knows that it wasn't. Once it's clear, he and Tony check to make sure the rest of the entrance is stable before moving the smaller rocks out of the way.  
  
In the end, they decide to move their camp to the waterfall near the peak on the other side of the island. Peter brought up that it would make it easier to maintain the signal, plus it has all of the freshwater that they need and Tony doesn't argue, instead he just offers to help carry what he can, but Peter is already worried about Tony making the trip. It takes him almost three hours by himself and while Tony is certainly feeling better, he's not about to let the man carry anything other than himself, not when Peter can carry it all like it's nothing.  


* * *

  
  
Falling asleep with peter tucked warm against his chest, it’s the most sound sleep Tony’s managed without a few drinks or a fever to put him under in years, maybe even since Afghanistan. In all honesty, he’d given up on sound, unaided sleep. It wasn’t the end of the world, but it’s saying something that he’s just slept through the night for the first time in nearly a decade.  
  
When they get up to start inspecting the cave, it still feels a little surreal to see Peter lift a boulder half the size of a mini-van without breaking a sweat. Based on the way Peter grins back at him, like he half expected it not to budge, he’s not the only one having some trouble adjusting. It’s not like it’s anything Tony hasn’t seen before, can’t do himself and more with the help of his suit, but reconciling the strength Peter’s showing now with Peter from a week ago, struggling under Tony’s weight as he helped him through the cave, well, it’s certainly strange.  
  
By the time it’s cleared, the cave still seems stable enough. They’ve already decided to be in and out fairly quickly, planning to move their camp somewhere less risky, just in case. They get what they need from the cave, it’s not too much, and set out for the waterfall. Peter refuses to let him carry anything, and if he didn’t just witness the kid tossing around two tons of rock, he’d be insulted.  
  
He still is, a little. An easily bruised ego is one of his many faults, where people close to him are concerned. He is, apparently, not great at hiding this. Peter laughs at his admittedly ridiculous pout when he’s not allowed to carry anything, but then again, he can read the worry on Peter’s face just as easily, so he’ll call them even.  
  
In the end, he’s grateful for Peter’s insistence. He’s doing a lot better than he was a few days ago, but he’s still in worse shape than he’d like to be. It takes them around four hours to get to the falls, Tony’s pace consistently falling and a few minutes to rest thrown in here and there. By the time they arrive, he’s just about ready to throw himself into the cool pool of fresh water, instead collapsing on the mossy ground at the edge of it in relief.  
  
“Jesus.” He pants. “Why don’t you look tired _at all_?” He gestures lazily at Peter, he’s hardly breathing any heavier than he was when they started. “Is that part of your whole _thing_? Don’t just say it’s because you’re young. That would basically be calling me old, and I’m not old. I’m just… worn out, for entirely non-age related reasons.” Tony reaches.  


* * *

  
  
Peter shrugs and smiles playfully. “Well, I mean you are...” Tony makes a face that clearly says 'don't even think about it' so he trails off even though Tony had teased him more than enough to deserve it. “How old are you, though?” He asks seriously and for a moment, Tony glares at him, toying with his lips before answering.  
  
“Forty eight.”  
  
Peter doesn't know a lot about relationships, but he knows that the age difference between them isn't normal and he's not sure if it's going to be a problem. “Are we...” He plays over the words in his mind, not sure exactly how to ask what he's thinking. “Is this okay?” Peter sits down next to Tony, chewing on his lip.  
  
He's sure that he's not making sense, so he tries to explain himself further. “I mean, when we get back will be still be able to...” Peter glances down quickly. “You know, _be together_?” He tries not to think about what he would do if Tony doesn't **want** to be together when they get back.  


* * *

  
  
When Peter glances up at him, nervous, and asks if they’re still going to be together when they get back, Tony…Tony feels a lot of things, because Peter just said he’s going home with him. Said it like he wasn’t even thinking, like it’s a given, and that pleases Tony beyond belief, he wants to pin Peter down and kiss him until he’s just as breathless as Tony is. Unfortunately, his delight is tampered by the fact that the answer to Peter’s question about whether or not this thing between them is _okay_ , if he’s being honest, is a no. Not really.  
  
He must stay silent a little too long for comfort, because Peter keeps sending him increasingly anxious looks.  
  
“It’s definitely not _normal_.” Tony sighs. “But it’s not illegal.” That’s only barely the case, but he’s not going to say that. He’s going to be honest, but there’s no need to make things harder to hear than they already will be. “‘Okay’ is a pretty subjective term, here. A lot of people are going to call me some pretty awful things, dirty old man, pervert, cradle robber, and that’s just the names they’ll use in polite company.” Tony huffs out a humourless laugh, he can think of quite a few much uglier words people are going to throw at him.“But none of that is new.” He’s not going to mention that Peter is definitely the youngest and by far most significant person who will have earned him such lovely titles.  
  
“I’m not going to lie, you’ll probably get your fair share of shit, too, they’ll probably call you a gold-digger, trophy-boy, delusional… a victim.” Tony hates the way his voice goes rough on the last word. He knows he didn’t force Peter into anything, but then again, isn’t that what he does? Delude himself into thinking he’s done the right thing for someone else, just to suit his own needs? Isn’t that why he’s out here in the first place?  
  
He looks up at Peter, whose expression has taken on a distinctly crestfallen shape, and pulls himself together. He can’t freak out and risk ruining a good thing, they have time, he’s an adult, they can figure this out. For once in his goddamn life he can handle his conflict like a real human being, whichever way things go, he’s going to do right by Peter.  
  
He reaches out to take his hand.  
  
“I’m going to do my best to keep the focus on me, okay? Going back is going to be hard for you, for a lot of reasons, I’m guessing, so no one says we have to go public right away. We’ll tell however many or few people you want.”  
  
Tony swallows hard, steeling himself for the hard part.  
  
“But, as much as I hate to admit this about the press, they’re going to have a point. I want this, Peter, I want _you_. I mean it, but we’ve got to face the facts. You’re _thirty one years younger_ than me, we met under extreme circumstances. I know I want you, but I need you to think about this, for real. If you felt… pressured or trapped, even subconsciously…”  


* * *

  
  
“What? No!” Peter straightens at the insinuation that Tony may have taken advantage of him. “No, never. I wanted to do all of that. With you.” He tightens his grip on Tony's hand and he hopes the other man doesn't think that it's just because he's here and available and that he's so desperate that he would have let anyone touch him like that just because of the circumstances.  
  
Tony didn't sugarcoat the situation and Peter knows he should be grateful, but it's not what he wants to hear and it's tough to swallow when Tony starts to talk about the press and going public. He hadn't even considered that, why would they have to deal with that?  
  
“Why would people say things like that?” He couldn't come up with a reason why the press would even care what they did if it was legal. He's missing something and the only thing he can come up with is that Tony is hiding something from him and as hypocritical as it is, there's a part of him that's upset by that. “Why would they even care?”  


* * *

  
  
Tony isn’t one hundred percent sold on how healthy Peter’s position is in their relationship, now that he’s been forced to confront it, but for the time being, at least, he says he’s comfortable and this is what he wants, and fuck if Tony doesn’t want it to be true. All they can do for now is take each other’s words at face value, if they get home and Peter changes his mind, Tony’s not going to stand in his way.  
  
It’s a little too late when he realizes that he’s backed himself into a bit of a corner with his comments about the press. He probably should’ve been a little more tactful, but Peter needs to know what he’s going to be coming home to, now that he is. He pushes himself to sit up fully so he can look at Peter properly while they talk.  
  
“I’m a bit of a public figure. Remember when I said I’m in clean energy? Spend some time dabbling in philanthropy? I meant it in a big way.” He bites his lip, he’s not exactly sure how to proceed, he’s rarely ever been concerned about coming off as braggy, but in this moment, it wouldn’t quite feel right. Then, there’s the matter of the skeletons in his closet and figuring out which to keep buried, for now.  
  
“I’m CEO of what used to be a major weapons manufacturing company, we’ve only recently switched our focus to clean energy and- well, a lot of little things. All more ethically sound.” He glances away, and can’t pretend it’s not because he’s afraid of what he’ll see in Peter’s eyes when he continues. “I saw what some of our weapons were doing to people, how they were hurting because of me. Things had to change.”  
  
He takes a deep breath, doing his best to shake off a little of the heaviness of the confession. “So, yeah. I’ve been in the news, a lot, and definitely will be again which means eventually, so will you. I’m serious when I tell you I need you to think about this, Peter. Make sure it’s what you want. I’m going to help you start over no matter what is or isn’t going on between us, so just… be sure, alright? Take your time.”  
  
Tony feels a little guilty that he’s only told Peter half of the truth, but the kid is already looking a little overwhelmed, so he takes it for the out it is.  


* * *

  
  
The idea that Tony lives in the public eye isn't ideal for Peter keeping his secret and he can't help but feel like there's something else that Tony isn't telling him, but he lets it go, telling himself that if he's allowed to have a secret, so is Tony. It makes sense though, Tony obviously has money, the expensive boat was proof enough of that. He'd been worried about being a burden to Tony, but he believes when Tony says that he'll help Peter start over and if he's in the position he says he's in, he has more than enough resources to actually make it happen.  
  
The next few days, the tension settles and they don't talk about anything serious, but they also don't touch much outside of cuddling through the nights. During the day, Peter keeps the fire on the peak going- Now that they're camped at the base of the waterfall, it's only about a half an hour climb for him to get to the top. At first, he thinks that Tony is going to insist on coming, but he doesn't.  
  
Whether it's because he's still sore or because he wants time alone, Peter doesn't know, but he's grateful for it. Being around another person constantly isn't something he's used to and he finds himself missing solitude just a little bit. Sitting on the peak, looking out at the ocean has always been a sort of ritual for him whenever he's feeling anxious or nervous. There's something calming about looking out and seeing nothing but blue, all the way to the edge of the earth.  
  
He stares out, thinking about everything that's going to happen, pretty much decided on going back with Tony, but there are things in him that he has to reconcile. For Peter, solitude has always meant safety and now Tony is talking about not only entering into society again, but putting himself front and center for everyone to see. Can Tony keep him safe the same way his self-imposed exile has?  
  
He doesn't have a chance to work himself up over it, his eyes instead focusing on something breaking the unending blue horizon. He squints, leaning forward slightly like the extra three inches are going to help discern what he's seeing. After a long while and more than a few blinks, he's almost certain it's a boat and it's getting bigger. It's still a long way away, but it's definitely heading toward the island.  
  
Peter breaks out into a sprint, running down the side of the mountain as quickly as he can, tripping and tumbling a couple of times, but he doesn't slow down. Tony is going to be so happy...  
  
“Tony!” He calls out as he makes his way through the trees to their camp. “Tony!” The man stands, worried look on his face and Peter smiles at him. “There's a boat!”  


* * *

  
  
Tony’s been silently relieved by the slight distance that’s grown between he and Peter over the last couple days. It doesn’t feel like an ominous one, Peter is still more than happy when Tony holds him close at night, they can still talk and tease each other, they’ve just been spending more time apart. It feels a bit peaceful, like some time they’ve both needed. He knows he gave Peter a lot to process, and he’s happy that he really does seem to be thinking about everything he said. It’s what he wanted.  
  
Not to mention, he still can’t help feeling a little guilty about things between them, now that he’s thought about it. Realistically, the less this thing between them grows before they get back to New York, and Peter has the chance to really cope with the situation outside of the bubble that the island has created, the better.  
  
Because of this peace that’s fallen over them, it’s all the more shocking when Peter comes barreling out of the trees, yelling his name. Tony jumps up, terrified of- well, he’s not even sure what, but Peter just looks excited and his alarm morphs into confusion.  
  
Peter tells him there’s a boat coming. Tony is so shocked that it’s not until Peter bodily crashes into him that he truly registers what he’s saying.  
  
“Wh- seriously, you’re serious right now?” Peter nods frantically. “I’m- where, show me where.” Tony demands, his hopes are rising, pushing every other thought from his head. Peter grabs his hand and together they make their way down towards the beach, as quick as Tony can manage. His lungs are protesting but the excitement keeps him from slowing down.  
  
Once they reach the beach, Peter points to a small, white spot off in the distance, slowly growing bigger. It can’t be very big, but Peter’s right. It’s a boat, and it’s headed their way. He can barely believe his eyes, he grabs Peter’s face and hauls him into a hard kiss, overjoyed, thanking him for seeing it.  
  
They spend a few more minutes, frantic on the beach before Peter darts off to deal with the signal fire, Tony opts to stay and signal the boat once they get close enough to see them. His mind is racing, they’re _going home_ , they’re actually going home. He hadn’t quite been willing to face the possibility, but something inside of him had been not only scared, but _sure_ that he’d be stuck out here forever.  
  
The weight that lifts from his shoulders is elating, he’ll be home soon. He can get back to helping people, he’ll have Peter, he’s being given yet another chance he hasn’t earned and he’s not going to waste it.  


* * *

  
  
The smile on Tony's face is contagious and his own widens as Tony perks up excitedly and Peter grabs his hand to lead him to the shore where they'll be able to see the vessel approaching. When peter points it out, Tony kisses him, overwhelmed with emotion and peter finds himself less anxious as he feeds off of Tony's enthusiasm.  
  
Tony stays behind to flag down the boat as it gets closer, though it's still an hour or so away if Peter had to estimate their speed and distance. He takes the time to climb back up to the peak to dim the fire enough that it won't burn the island down after they're gone and as he watches the boat approach, far away from the vibrations of Tony's excitement, he feels a nagging sadness. The island had been his home for almost three years. It had kept him safe and brought him and Tony together.  
  
He takes his time walking back down, saying his goodbyes. He's going to miss it, but he's excited to see Tony's world, he really is. As he clears the trees, he hears people talking and smiles- The boat must have arrived while he was gone. He picks up his pace, but when the people come into view, his eyes go wide and his stomach sinks. The men are surrounding Tony and they don't look like they're here to help. They're carrying large, intimidating guns and Tony's arms are tied behind his back.  
  
“Tony... What's going on?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, feedback is the BEST! If you like it, let us know :)


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this one is a bit long, just because there didn't seem to be a natural stopping point before this. We hope you don't mind ^_~

When the boat actually gets close enough that he can make out the people onboard clearly, it becomes apparent that they’re armed to the teeth. Tony’s elation dissipates, quickly replaced by a heavy knot of anxiety settling in the pit of his stomach. They’ve already seen him, they’ll hit land in a few minutes, it’s definitely too late for that to change.  
  
He could run, maybe, but what then? There’s nowhere to go, and now that they know he’s here, they’ll find him. There’s no way he’d manage to get to Peter before they hit land, he’d lead them straight to him. Even if he didn’t and they did get away in time, it wouldn’t last long. The island isn’t that big, and there’s only so much fresh water, they’d be found before long.  
  
Right now, there’s a pretty good chance they don’t even know Peter exists, just Tony. He doesn’t know what they want, but he’d like to keep it that way. He almost wishes they’d get here faster, Peter’s going to head back soon and he wants to draw them away before he returns. With any luck, Peter will spot them ahead of time and stay away.  
  
Tony can talk- or bribe- his way out of this, and come back for him when he escapes. He just needs Peter to stay hidden.  
  
They reach the shore, guns drawn. Tony knows the drill, he’s got his hands up already. A couple of them get out, keeping their weapons on him, as the rest drag the boat up the sand enough that it will stay put, save for one man who saunters over, a grin on his face.

  
“You’re the great Tony Stark? Am I right?” He doesn’t seem surprised, that’s never a good sign. His instinct is to deny it, bait him, but- Peter. Not to mention the damn reactor, who else could he possibly be?  
  
“Yeah, I am. Come to rescue me?” He quips, nodding at one of the guns. The man just laughs, gesturing at one of his cronies who pulls a rope from the boat, heading over towards him. Tony sighs. He doesn’t put up a fight when his arms are yanked down and back, letting the other man wind the ropes around them.  
  
“We found your boat, not far from here.” The man in charge explains. “We assumed you’d be dead, not a problem, the boat alone would have been worth a fair price once we got it working.” He grins. “Then we saw your signal.” Gesturing towards the now-fading column of smoke in the sky. Shit, he hasn’t got long left.  
  
“Look-ow.” He grunts, annoyed, as the ropes are roughly secured. “Whatever anyone else will give you, I’ll double, quintuple it, whatever you want. I’ll pay a thousand times more than anyone you’re going to find-” He wishes this were the first time he’s had to offer to pay his own ransom “Just get me somewhere with cell service.”  
  
“We’ll see.” The man shrugs, but then he’s gesturing to his crew and Tony is being walked towards the boat and no matter what’s about to happen to him, Tony is feeling flooded with equal parts anxiety and relief because they’re so close-  
  
“Tony… What’s going on?”  
  
Shit.  
  
He turns to see Peter looking justifiably alarmed at the tree line of the beach.  
  
“Don’t move, Peter.” He urges, the men have already turned their weapons on him. “Just- do what they say. _Don’t try anything_.” He really, really hopes Peter get the message. He may be strong, but they’ve got no idea if he’s bullet proof and Tony would really rather not find out.  
  


* * *

  
  
Peter does what Tony says, not moving an inch until one of the men passes through the crowd, waving him over. He doesn't look like the kind of man that you ignore, so he walks out onto the open beach.  
  
“A friend of yours?” The man asks Tony as he looks him up and down curiously. “Your logs say you were alone.. A secret friend, perhaps?” He smirks and the men chuckle as Peter gulps, intimidated even though he's the only one without a gun. “What's your name?”  
  
“Peter.” He keeps his voice steady even though he can feel himself trembling as the man raises his eyebrows as if expecting more. “Parker.”  
  
Another man near Tony swings his gun behind him and pulls out what looks like a small computer, typing furiously before lifting his eyes and shaking his head. “He's nobody.”  
  
“Fine. We don't need him.” The leader turns to walk away and as Peter sees the relieved look on Tony's face he realizes exactly what that means. They're going to take Tony away and leave him behind.  
  
His heart is pounding as he watches them walking away. Tony is an important person where he's from, so they wouldn't hurt him, right? They just want money or something, he doesn't know but he knows that they won't get anything if they hurt him. On the other hand, Tony said something about manufacturing weapons..  
  
“No..” Peter starts to run toward Tony, but is quickly grabbed by two of the men. “You can't do this! Tony!” Tony is grinding his teeth, jaw tight as he shakes his head, trying to tell him to stop before he gets killed and he knows he should, but he can't lose him now. Peter can protect Tony, they just have to stay together. “You can't take him!”  
  
Peter shoves one of the men off of him and another two rush at him, holding him still before he feels a sharp pain exploding through the back of his head. He hears Tony's voice yelling his name, the sound echoing through him and he's out before he hits the ground.  
  


* * *

  
  
Tony tries his best to get Peter to stop, he doesn’t want to make things worse but Peter is _going to get himself killed_ if he keeps fighting, he’d been so close to being left behind. He would have been okay, and instead here he is again, in danger because of Tony.  
  
When he gets cracked in the back of the skull Tony can’t help the way he takes half a stride forward, trying to get to him. He doesn’t make it far before he’s staring down the barrel of a gun.  
  
“I wouldn’t do that, if I were you.” The man threatens casually. Tony takes a deep breath, near-shaking with the effort of keeping himself calm. It’s better this way, maybe, if Peter is unconscious he can’t get himself in any more trouble. It doesn’t feel quite like the truth, but it’s the best he’s got.  
  
They push Tony towards the boat, shoving him inside and down onto the bench second from the nose of the boat, one man with a gun sitting behind him as the rest settle onto the benches in front of him. One hauls Peter into the boat over his shoulder, dropping him down hard between the two most crowded benches as they push away from land. Tony winces when Peter’s head hits the bottom of the boat, between that and the gun he hopes Peter isn’t concussed.  
  
They bind Peter’s arms and legs as they make their way further out to sea, Tony isn’t sure what language they’re speaking, it’s not Spanish, as he’d have expected from the region, which means they’re international, which means they could be more dangerous, with more resources, than he’d initially suspected.  
  
Once they’re far enough out that the island is just a speck on the horizon, Tony has resolved to buy them out before they get to his boat.  
  
“How much do you want?” He asks, projecting as much bravado as he can muster in his position. It’s always harder with someone else’s life in his hands than when it’s only his own at stake. “Give me a number, I’ll triple it.” Some of the men laugh, Tony refuses to give them the satisfaction of reacting.  
  
“So willing to pay that you don’t even wait for us to begin the negotiations, he must be worth a lot to you?” The leader says. Tony does his best to swallow down his anxieties. One of the other men reaches down to grab Peter by the hair, lifting his limp head.  
  
“He’s not that pretty, is he? He must have _other_ skills.” They all laugh, and something nervous and dark settles in the pit of Tony’s stomach. “Maybe we should find out what makes him so valuable, for ourselves.” The grin he shoots Tony is sickening. He chokes down the bile that threatens to rise in his throat and does his best to look indifferent.  
  
“Like I said, he’s no one. My logs were right, I was alone, he was already on the island when I got there.”  
  
“How lucky for you.” Says the same man who threatened Peter a moment ago.  
  
“If he’s no-one, then I suppose we were wrong about him?” Asks their leader, Tony nods, and he realizes it was a trap the moment the man’s face twists into an ugly smile.  
  
“Wonderful. You heard him, boys, he’s dead weight.” Tony barely has time to choke out Peter’s name before they’re hauling Peter up, getting ready to toss him overboard.  
  
“No! No- shit, stop. Please!” Tony begs, but they don’t stop, swinging Peter by the ankles and wrists to taunt him. “Fuck, I’ll pay you whatever you want-” The main man laughs.  
  
“You’ll pay us whatever we want no matter what! You already know exactly what information was on your boat, you know how much damage we can do with it, don’t you?” Fuck, he’s right. Tony’s going to be sick. He was so stupid, thinking he could work somewhere so insecure. The man laughs again. “Exactly.” He waves a hand to the other men.  
  
The boat rocks as they give one last swing and let go. Tony screams, lunging forward desperately as Peter hits the water. He doesn’t get far, landing hard against the edge of the boat and slipping down to the floor of it. The men around him laugh as a boot comes down on his back to stop him from moving.  
  
Peter… there’s no way anyone’s pulling out a miracle, this time. Peter is gone. His lungs are filling with water right now, while Tony lies useless and bound on the bottom of this filthy boat, Peter is dying and it’s entirely his fault.  
  


* * *

  
  
The shock of cold enveloping him jolts Peter back to consciousness as he feels himself weightless in the water, slowly drifting downward. His senses are coming back to him and at first he thinks he may be dead, but he can taste the saltwater as it fills his mouth, remembering what happened.  
  
He can hear and feel the soft rumble of the boat, but he's disoriented and it takes him a few moments to figure out which way is up and how far away it is. Blinking, he looks around, panicking at the thought that Tony might be sinking with him, but the sun is still up and it's not hard for him to quickly decide that he's the only one in the water.  
  
Feeling a little more sure, he tugs at the ropes around his hands and ankles, breaking them with ease as he finally takes a deep breath, his gills fully formed and functioning well before his tail will be. He floats under the surface, keeping track of the boat's trajectory while he feels the lump on his head, sore beneath his fingers but no broken skin.  
  
With his breath caught and his tail formed, Peter starts to swim with the boat, far enough below the surface to not be seen, setting a pace that he can keep up with for a while. As he starts to plan out what he can do, he realizes that Tony is going to find out about him, there's no way around it anymore. If he wants to save Tony, and that's _all_ he can think about, then the man is going to see him in the water and while he's sure to be relieved that Peter isn't dead at the bottom of the ocean, he's not sure how he'll take it once they're safe. It doesn't matter, though, as long as Tony is safe, he'll do whatever he has to do.  
  
It's a few hours before the sun sets and he waits, following and biding his time until it's as dark as it's going to get before he makes his move, doing the only thing he can think to do. He takes a deep breath and dives down, quicker and more pointed before coming up at a sharp angle, catching the front of the boat under his hands. It lifts from the surface of the water and moments later it's on its side and the men inside are hitting the water, yelling and hollering in a language Peter doesn't understand.  
  
He hooks his arms under Tony's as soon as he sees him, rushing him to the surface before he can inhale any water, not wanting to accidentally kill him in the process of trying to save him. Breaching the surface, Tony is gasping, shocked by the sudden commotion and Peter swims them far enough away that they're hidden by the shallow waves and darkness, ripping at his bonds until his hands and feet are free before surfacing in front of him.  
  
“It's okay, Tony. It's just me.” He whispers as he cups Tony's face between his hands and looks him in the eye, making sure that Tony know he's safe. “I got you.”  
  


* * *

  
  
After the amusement of having him pinned to the dirty floor of the boat had worn off, Tony had been tossed back to his original place, slumping down between the benches rather than sitting up. He couldn’t bring himself to give a shit. He still hasn’t.  
  
He doesn’t care about the pain, or the smell, or where they’re going. He doesn’t care what they’re about to do to him, because who would, at this point? He deserves whatever he gets. He’s already failed Peter, they’ve already got access to more than enough information to do a lot of damage to a lot of people. They’ve already- fuck.  
  
Fuck. He feels torn between being unable to even think it and being unable to think of anything else.  
  
They’ve already killed Peter. In the short time since they’ve met, all he’s done is fail him. Fail to trust him, to protect him, from himself or from others, nearly gotten him killed. And now, despite the miraculous shock of Peter’s powers already having saved them both from near death once, Tony somehow managed to screw up badly enough to finish the job.  
  
Peter is- was, _fuck_ \- so good. So, so good. Just a sweet, kind-hearted kid doing his best, and Tony has ended his life. He’ll never get to see one of his shy yet smug smiles again, never get to hear him mouth off, never get to touch him, feel him warm and alive under his hands. Worse, yet, Peter will never get the chance to build a life for himself. Fuck, he’s not- wasn’t, _**fuck**_ \- even an adult yet.  
  
Not even eighteen.  
  
Not even eighteen and now he’s somewhere at the bottom of the pacific ocean, life gone from his body, bound up and waiting to have it torn apart, bones left to decay on the ocean floor. No light, no sound, nothing. Totally and utterly alone, just like he’d already been for far too long. But so, so much worse.  
  
Tony doesn’t bother to try and choke back the tears that fall when he hopes against all hope that Peter hadn’t woken up, that the universe had seen fit to do him that one, small mercy. The kid had already been through enough, and he didn’t deserve to spend his last moments on earth suffering and afraid.  
  
He doesn’t pay much attention to the passing of time as he lingers in his haze, unable to get Peter’s screams as Tony had been herded towards the boat out of his head. Not to mention the taste of his lips. He’s tangentially aware that the sky has gone dark, but he doesn’t particularly care until the boat is being upended out of nowhere and he suddenly doesn’t have the light to give him any clue which way is up and which is down as the cold shocks the air from his lungs  
  
He has fleeting thought that this might not be so bad, might even be better than he deserves, to die like Peter did rather than worse, but he doesn’t have time to dwell on it before he’s being dragged towards the surface with alarming speed.  
  
He’s too disoriented to make out much when they break the surface but that’s- Christ, that’s _Peter’s voice_ , those are Peter’s hands that’s- impossible. But somehow, it’s true. In the faint glow of the moonlight he can see his face, it’s Peter looking into his eyes, reassuring him.  
  
After moment, Peter lets go, disappearing. Tony tries to grab him, doesn’t want to let go, but he’s already gone, too quick for him. How washed out Peter had looked under the moon, the impossibility of the situation, Tony feels spooked, unable to wrap his mind around what’s happened. It feels like he’s seen a ghost.  
  
That is, until the shouting starts. Not too far in the distance he can hear the men who have surfaced shouting, see them disappearing under the water and popping back up a moment later, flailing in panic at the unseen threat in the water.  
  
A moment later Peter reappears at the head of the boat, reaching up to grab the nose of it, dragging it over to Tony with speed and grace that’s clearly inhuman. Tony still can’t take his eyes off him. He’s only barely distracted when Peter rights the boat, getting close again to shove him up into it, clearly not trusting him to do it himself. He must look as shocked as he feels. It’s a little waterlogged when he tumbles inside, but not enough to truly slow it down, he suspects. Hopes.  
  
Peter grips the edge of the boat, and for a moment he looks scared, hesitating to pull himself up. Urgent fear courses through Tony’s veins at the thought that he might disappear again and he doesn’t even realize he’s going to speak before the words leave his mouth.  
  
“Peter, please.” His voice sounds as wrecked as he feels, but it does the trick. With a sad sigh, Peter heaves himself up and into the boat, tail and all.  
  
_Tail and all_. That’s- new. For a moment, Tony stares at it, almost mesmerized by the way the pale blue scales shine scales gleam silver under the moonlight, but the second he looks back up at Peter’s face it fades into the background because this is **real**. Peter is, once again, here in front of him, alive after what should’ve meant certain death.  
  
“Christ, _Peter_.” Tony launches himself over the bench between them and drags Peter into his arms, squeezing the breath from his lungs as he buries his face in his neck. He’d been dead. _He’d been dead.  
  
_ “Fuck.” He chokes out into Peter’s skin. “If you’re hiding any other miraculous, death-defying powers you’d better tell me because I swear I’m going to have a fucking heart attack if I have to go through this again.” He’s not at all kidding. He leans back just enough to hold Peter’s face close in his hands, just like Peter had done to him in the water. “You’re really here, you’re really alive. This hasn’t all been some fucking- fucked up fever dream?”  
  


* * *

  
  
Peter's almost hiding behind the edge of the boat. He knew that Tony was going to see him, now that the moment had actually arrived, he's frozen in fear, but then he hears Tony's voice and how scared _he_ is.. Tony had thought he was dead, it was the only logical conclusion he could have come to and the look on his face tells Peter that he doesn't understand why he's hesitating.  
  
He sighs, pulling himself into the boat, tail hitting the bottom of the vessel with a heavy thunk, unable to meet Tony's eyes as he gapes. Dread sinks into his bones as he waits for Tony to say _something_. If it's a rejection, he can jump back into the water and never look back as much as the thought of that makes his heart twist.  
  
But it's not rejection. Tony doesn't look at him in disgust or horror, he just pulls him into his arms, begging him to say that he isn't dreaming. When the man pulls back and looks into his eyes, Peter sees nothing but relief and.. Maybe something else that he can't place, but it's not bad.  
  
“I'm here. I-” He looks down at his tail, running his hand across the slick scales. “I was scared to tell you.” Peter leans his forehead to rest against Tony's.  
  
As he speaks, he feels the telltale tingle of his tail changing and he watches Tony's face as the man stares down at him. The scales dull and turn to a soft sea foam that seems to melt away, revealing his toned, lithe legs and a distinct lack of clothing.  
  
“I didn't mean for you to worry, I'm so sorry..”  
  


* * *

  
  
The sight of Peter’s tail giving way to his legs in a slow melt of sea-foam is a strangely lovely one. He reaches down and runs a hand over his thigh, the barest residue of foam gathering over his fingers. He’s so transfixed by the transformation that it takes him a moment to realize Peter is now naked.  
  
He swallows hard and pulls his hand away, wrapping it instead around Peter’s waist, away from temptation. With the adrenaline and relief and fuck- maybe _love_ flooding his system, he wants nothing more than to have Peter in every way the boy will allow him. Feel him wholly, surrounding him, so alive that every doubt is forced out of his mind, but now isn’t the time. They’ve got to get back to Tony’s boat and far, far away from here.  
  
“Don’t be sorry.” Tony wraps a hand around Peter’s nape, looking at him seriously. “Please, don’t ever be sorry, you’ve got nothing to be sorry for, Peter. _I’m_ sorry, because of me-.” He stops. He’s afraid that if he starts he’s never going to stop, it’ll have to wait. He takes a deep breath, compartmentalizing his feelings the best he can, stored for later.  
  
“We have to get to my boat. We’re- we’re going to have to take one of them with us.” He grimaces. “It’s risky but they know where it is, we don’t.” After what they’d said, what they’d _done_ , he doesn’t relish the thought of having one of them anywhere near Peter. Not like this, especially. He knows Peter is strong, but it just feels wrong.  
  


* * *

  
  
Tony reaches out to touch him with a look of complete awe on his face that Peter's never seen before and he might cry at how it makes his heart flutter. He never would have imagined someone seeing him- the _real_ him- with that kind of adoration and reverence. When Tony holds him close, every last worry and fear that he had fades away. Tony accepts him and if they can just get to safety, they might have a real chance at being together and being happy.  
  
Speaking of safety, Peter listens to Tony's plan, perking up when he thinks he can help. “Here, I got this.” He leans over one of the benches to grab the large gun. “I took away all the others, this is the only one now.” Tony takes the gun and they move to the back of the boat, Tony manning the motor, driving them over to where he'd left the men, banded together, floating in the ocean.  
  
When they're within shouting distance, Tony aims the gun at the group of men and covers Peter with his body in a way that's so caring. They _have_ to make it out of this. He _needs_ to show Tony how much he wants to stay with him.  
  


* * *

  
  
Tony does his best to block Peter from view as they approach the group of men huddled together in the water. They don’t get so close that they’d have any shot of overwhelming and tipping the boat, just close enough to be seen and heard clearly. Tony points the gun at them.  
  
“Alright. Here’s how it’s gonna go: one of you - doesn’t matter who - is going to come with us. You’re going to take us to my boat, and if you don’t try anything stupid, you can have your dingy back and come get your buddies. Any volunteers?”  
  
There’s a flurry of jostling and yelling and the man who breaks ahead is the one who had threatened Peter. Bile rises in Tony’s chest.  
  
“Not you.” He snaps, dangerous. He’s got the gun trained on him and in all honesty, his trigger finger is a little itchy. If he was alone, he’s not confident he wouldn’t do it, not even confident he’d be particularly sorry about it afterwards, but Peter’s already seen more than enough for the day, he doesn’t need to add that to the list and wouldn’t particularly want to face him afterwards. “Anyone else?” He calls.  
  
Again, jostling, though less shouting, this time, and the man who had tied up Tony on the beach and sat behind him in the boat swims forward. He silently hauls himself up into the boat, Tony’s eyes trained on him the entire time, along with the gun, and settles by the rudder.  
  
Tony can catch him glancing warily around his shoulder at Peter and nudges him hard in the chest with the nose of the gun.  
  
“Hey. You so much as _look_ at him funny and it’s lights out, got it?” The man brings his hands up, looking up at Tony with raised brows.  
  
“I- got it.”  
  
“Good. Now drive.” Tony nods and sits down on the bench in front of Peter as the other man gets the engine started.  
  
While they speed through the night, Tony does his best to keep his thoughts at bay, but it’s impossible to succeed entirely. He can feel Peter’s hand resting lightly on his waist, far enough back that the other man won’t see it there if he looks, not that Tony particularly cares what he thinks, at this point, he’s not a threat to them, anymore. He wonders if Peter is doing it for himself, or because he knows that somewhere in the back of his mind, Tony is still scared that he’s going to turn around and Peter won’t be there.  
  
He needs- he needs a lot of things. He needs to apologize, over and over again until Peter is sick of hearing it but can’t doubt that he means it. He _needs_ to finally get them home, where he can actually protect him instead of being so damn useless all the time, not to mention being more the one Peter needs to be protected from rather than by. He needs to make sure Peter knows he’s not going anywhere, not unless he wants him gone. Not ever.  
  
Even as he feels the boat slowing, Tony doesn’t dare take his eyes off the other man, he knows Peter would tell him if there was something off about where they’re headed. Eventually, they pull up beside the yacht and Tony is having great difficulty holding back the relief that threatens to wash over him. He won’t take anything about their safety for granted, not until they’re back on solid ground.  
  
They climb aboard the yacht while the man holds them close to it by a rope hanging from the side, Tony making him look away while Peter climbs up. Once they’re actually up on the boat, Tony still doesn’t look away from him until the dingy has disappeared far into the distance.  
  
He’s already thinking about what he’s got to do next. The biggest priority is getting away, who knows what those men could come back with, it’s not worth the risk of finding out. After that, he needs to get FRIDAY working so he can get a distress signal out, specifically to Rhodey. He’s got Tony’s resources, which makes him the quickest, most efficient option. Not to mention, the safest for Peter. If his powers are revealed somehow, Rhodey is the only one who can do this that he knows they can trust to keep quiet about it. He’s still planning when Peter’s hand grips his shoulder.  
  


* * *

  
  
Once they're on the boat and the imminent danger is out of the way, he reaches out to Tony, just wanting to feel him close again before they have to get to work. He stands on his toes to wrap his arms around him and as much as he wants to kiss him and touch him, right now he can tell that Tony needs comfort more. He'd been so tense on the small boat, protecting him from those men like at any moment they could take him away again.  
  
“I won't leave you again..” He whispers into Tony's ear as the man wraps his arms around Peter's waist, burying his face in his neck. Peter can feel the shaking breath across his skin as he runs his hands through Tony's hair. “I'm not going to leave you, I promise.. I promise..” He repeats until Tony nods.  
  
When he moves back, he keeps Tony close, their noses touching as he speaks. “Can you get us out of here?” Tony fills him in on his plan to get the boat back up and running and much to Peter's relief, he sounds confident. “I can go below and see if I can find us something to eat.” He can tell by the tension is Tony's hands that the man doesn't want to let him go, but they both know it would be useless for Peter to stay and watch him work. Not to mention they hadn't eaten in a while.  
  
Stepping below deck, it's still dark, but the sun has started to come up and is filtering in through the large windows .The first level is a large living area filled with furniture, cushions and pillows strewn about, but no major damage that he can see. He bypasses it to go down further, where no light can creep in, but his vision is good enough to make his way through the mess without stumbling too much. The stairs give way to the kitchen and it's worse for wear than the other level but the cabinets and doors all still closed tightly. Glass and debris are scattered across the floor and Peter treads very carefully.  
  
He gets down on his knees, grabbing a small towel the floor to push the glass, clearing it away until he can walk freely. Anything in the refrigerator is most likely expired without power, so he skips straight to the cabinets, opening them carefully as he searches for something he can bring to Tony. The first cabinet is spices and thick, square glass jars of things that need to be prepared.  
  
He opens another door, slowly, hearing the telltale clink of glass on glass. When his eyes land on the bottles, he glances upstairs, as if somehow Tony is going to know what he's found, his stomach uneasy as he remembers the first night he saw him. He grabs a plastic bottle of soda water before he shuts the door, fingers lingering on it for a moment before moving on, reminding himself that Tony is an adult and he doesn't need to explain anything to him.  
  
The third door reveals a series of breads and pastries and immediately, Peter's spirits are raised. He fills his arms before dragging the haul back up the stairs where Tony is already laying on the ground under the ship's main control center, elbow deep in wires. He sets the food down, fascinated by watching Tony working, connecting different wires and reaching out for tools. On the island, surrounded by nature, he hadn't been able to see this side of Tony, to realize that he was smart enough to do something like that and he hadn't realized how much work it would be until he saw the man actually rewiring the ship.  
  
He decides to let him be, waiting until Tony feels like taking a break, not wanting to interrupt him, knowing that Tony just wants to get them somewhere safe. Tony wants to protect him and get them home so that they can stop worrying about survival and just _be together_. Peter wants that too, more than anything.  
  


* * *

  
  
When he convinces himself to let go of Peter, the first thing he does is head down to the engine room. With only the faint light of the reactor to guide him, he digs out the flashlight in the emergency toolkit that’s stored directly to the side of the descending ladder.  
  
He can hear Peter moving around the boat above him while he works, digging through the kitchen, heading up and down the stairs to see what needs to be done, how he can help. Normally, he might find the noise distracting, annoying, but right now it’s just a comfort. It makes him nervous when Peter goes quiet for too long. He can’t let himself get up and look for him like he wants to, they _need_ to get out of here, but the impulse is there.  
  
He knows, intellectually, that Peter is still on the boat. Nothing bad has happened to him, he hasn’t decided Tony isn’t worth his time and slipped back into the water, but for whatever reason his subconscious just will not get the message. Trauma’s funny like that, sometimes.  
  
Fortunately, it doesn’t take him long to asses the state of the actual mechanics of the boat. As he’d hoped, there doesn’t appear to be any damage, he’ll need to get the system up and running, do some diagnostics to be sure, but that can come later. For now, all he has to do is boot up the basics and he can get them out of here.  
  
He keeps the flashlight and heads back up the stairs. It’s a relief to be able to hear Peter easier again. He heads into the top saloon and immediately gets to work, pulling the decorative panelling off the bottom of the control panel so he can figure out what the hell went wrong in the first place and how to fix it.  
  
It’s easy to get lost in this work, comforting in its familiarity. So comforting, in fact, that it’s not until he finally pulls his head out of the mess of wires an unknown number of hours later, confident that he’s nearly there, and sees some food left out on the floor that he realizes Peter has been by. His stomach grumbles at the sight of it, and he wants to go find Peter and thank him- but, he’s pretty sure he just needs a few more minutes, and the opportunity to surprise Peter a little with the power, make him smile, is too appealing of one to put off.  
  
He pushes the food from his mind and slips back under the control console with renewed determination.  
  
As he admittedly tends to be where these things are concerned, Tony is correct. A few minutes later, he’s confident that he’s fixed what needs to be fixed to get them moving, he grabs the wires that control the ignition and takes a deep breath, begging the universe to please, please just let him have this one. For Peter’s sake, if not his own. The wires spark and- _yes._ There it is. The faint hum of electricity fills the air and lights flicker on all through the boat, he can feel it rumbling to life.  
  
“Yes!” He smacks the bottom of the boat in celebration as he slides out from under the controls. Not wasting a moment, he jumps up and drops into the captain’s chair. Aims them due northwest and slowly pushes the control lever, steadily accelerating, he finally, finally allows some true measure of relief to spread through him. They’re not entirely out of the woods, but they’re getting there.  
  
Peter dashes into the room and Tony turns to grin at him. He hasn’t got the system up and functioning enough to set the boat on autopilot yet, so he beckons Peter forward and pulls him down into his lap so he can kiss him properly.  
  


* * *

  
  
Peter's just finishing putting the pillows back on the bed, having made his way through making the rest of the downstairs livable, when he hears a noise from upstairs as the lights turn on. He hears Tony's shout of victory and feels the boat beginning to move, bolting up the stairs as soon as he's acclimated to the motion. Tony's smile confirms what he'd thought- Good news. They're on their way home.  
  
He's not sure when he started thinking about Tony's home as his own, or when he started thinking that Tony _is_ his home, but deep down he knows it feels right. There was no way he would have ever let Tony leave him behind and now he didn't have to think about that ever again as they made their way slowly to their destination.  
  
Peter's a little nervous for Tony to see him, rolling the hem of Tony's t-shirt between his fingers. He'd been cleaning and he didn't want to get dirtier than he already was, so he'd gone into Tony's closet to borrow something to wear, the simple graphic tee being the first thing he found that looked comfortable.  
  
Peter joins him when he's called over and straddles Tony's lap, knees resting on the soft leather as he dips his head down, not able to stop smiling as their lips meet. It's slow and deep and Peter puts all of his heart into kissing Tony, tasting him like he might never get another chance. When Tony's hands knead his thighs, he takes a deep breath and puts his own hands on top of them, halting the motions. As much of a victory as they've just had, they're nowhere near safe yet an there are _so_ many other problems that they need to talk about..  
  
“We should eat.. And talk.” Peter suggests, pressing another quick kiss to Tony's lips before standing to retrieve the stash of food he'd brought up earlier. “I'm sure you have a lot of questions..” Peter hands him a stale danish, settling back into the seat next to Tony, sitting on his hip to face the man.  
  


* * *

  
  
Peter gets off his lap and he immediately misses the weight of him, but the kid’s right, they’ve got a lot they need to talk about, a lot to figure out. Not to mention, trying to drive the boat while they- well, it’s not a good idea, they really haven’t come all this way to end up dead cause Tony couldn’t keep it in his pants.  
  
He takes the sad, stale danish Peter hands him and refuses to pout as Peter settles into the chair across from him. It turns out not to be much of a problem, because the moment he actually registers what Peter is wearing surprised laughter punches out of him. It’s _him_ , of all the clothes in Tony’s closet Peter has chosen the worn out graphic t-shirt that features a grainy, comic book image of _Iron Man_ getting blasted out of the air by one of the Mandarin’s stupid, cosmic-weirdness rings.  
  
He could have at least had the decency to pick one where Tony is _winning_ the fight, though he supposes Peter probably doesn’t even realize why Tony finds it hilarious. Not to mention, he is the one who bought the shirt in the first place.  
  
He forces himself to stop laughing when he realizes Peter’s looking a little insecure about it, which is really the last thing Tony wants, because while it’s more than a little hilarious to see Peter wearing this particular shirt, it’s also extremely hot to see him wearing not only Tony’s old t-shirt, but one with Iron Man emblazoned over the chest. It feels a little like ownership and he probably likes it too much.  
  
“Sorry, sorry. It’s fine, Peter, wear anything you want, just- you’re going to get why that was funny soon, I promise.” He grins. The time to keep secrets is up, so he doesn’t feel so bad about having a little fun with it, now. It’s possible he’s still feeling a little giddy about getting the boat going, but he’s going to let himself enjoy it.  
  
“So, here’s the plan so far: in about a half hour we’re going to stop so I can get the rest of the systems back online. It shouldn’t take long, from there I’m going to put us on autopilot so we can finally fucking relax.” He groans. “Take a shower, do you know how much I missed showers? Actually, yeah. You probably do.” Tony grins sheepishly, it’s been years for Peter, he probably hardly even cares, anymore. He takes a deep breath, steeling himself for a slightly more serious turn.  
  
“This is- you don’t have to tell me right this second, we can just eat, first, wait until I’m done working on the boat and unwind a bit, but I’m going to need to know about your family, soon. When we hit land… There’s going to be a lot of legal work we’re going to need to figure out, for you.”  
  


* * *

  
  
Tony laughs at him and even though Peter doesn't get the joke, he's glad to see the man happy again. “What? I like Iron Man. He's cool..” Peter tugs at the bottom of the shirt to cover himself.  
  
“Anyway, it's okay. You already know the big secret, so..” Peter smiles slightly. “The only family I have is my Aunt May, last I knew, she lived in Queens. She's not like me.” He added before Tony could ask, in case the man was curious. “My uncle was and my parents, but she's normal.”  
  
Peter licks his lips, savoring the artificial sweetness that he hasn't tasted in so long as he takes another small bite. “I was born off the coast, but we moved to the city with my aunt and uncle when I was little. We lived with them until my uncle died.” It was so long ago, but he still remembered it like it was yesterday. “Then my parents decided it was too dangerous to stay and we went back across the ocean.”  
  
Peter sets the pastry down, not feeling hungry anymore as he recounts what happened. “I saw some kids out fishing one day and we became friends. I used to sneak onto the shore at night and we would hang out.” Peter laughs, thinking back to the first time he met with them and no one had thought to bring him clothes. “We watched movies and stuff, you know.. Things I couldn't normally do.”  
  
His expression turns sour and he leans his head to rest on Tony's shoulder. “One boy- Christian.. We were really close. His dad found us one night and he chased me out of their house and to the edge of the water. I didn't know what else to do, so I jumped in and.. He saw me. My tail, I mean.”  
  
Tony pushes the armrest between them up and wraps his arm around Peter's body, pulling him close against his chest, placing a small kiss in his hair as Peter leans into him, wishing that Tony's warmth could wash away the pain. “I got away, but they caught my parents. I don't know what happened to them, I just swam as far away as I could.” He presses his face into Tony's chest and whispers. “It's my fault they're gone..”  
  


* * *

  
  
Tony listens as Peter explains what happened to his family, after all the build up, Tony’s a little surprised how well he holds up through most of it. As soon as Christian comes up, his demeanour shifts, growing visibly more troubled. Tony tastes the vitriol in his words when he mentions the boy’s father, but a moment later the anger leaves his body, giving way to guilt and sadness.  
  
He shoves the arm rest out of the way and pulls Peter close, dropping a kiss into his hair, running a hand over his back in soothing circles. Peter, sweet, wonderful Peter who was willing to die to save a stranger who washed up on his beach, blames himself for his parent’s disappearance. Nothing could be further from the reality of the situation.  
  
For a moment, he lets Peter hide in his shoulder, knowing that he needs it, but eventually he has to break the silence.  
  
“Peter, no.” His voice is firm, but quiet, careful not to be overbearing. “That situation, you were just a kid doing what kids do, that doesn’t make this your fault. That man was a piece of shit, and there’s always the risk of running into someone like that. It could have happened to anyone, kid.” His skin is wet where Peter has tucked his face into his neck, and there’s more Tony needs to know, but he can give Peter the time he needs to find comfort.  
  
Even if he couldn’t, he’d find a way. The comfort he can offer feels so woefully insignificant in the face of Peter’s trauma, but it’s all he can do, for now, so he just squeezes him tighter and whispers soft words of reassurance into his hair.  
  


* * *

  
  
Peter's thankful for the time Tony gives him, just comforting him without pressure to continue. There's so much more to talk about, but it's hard to think about when his head is stuck in the past.  
  
He doesn't believe when Tony says it's not his fault, but it's sweet that the man is trying to make him feel better. Eventually he pulls the edge of the t-shirt up, using it to wipe his eyes and cheeks dry. “Thanks.”  
  
“What else do you need to know?” He straighten himself, shoving down the feelings of pain and guilt because he knows that Tony needs more information and they don't have a lot of time. Tony pulls out a pad of paper and a pen from a compartment under the seat and he tells Peter exactly what to put down: Names, dates, location- As much as he can remember.  
  
He gets to work, writing as Tony sinks back down to where he was working before, pulling a bundle of multicolored wires from under the plastic paneling. He finishes quickly, only really having his parents information to write down, setting the paper to the side as he leans down, watching Tony. He offers to hold the flashlight for him, fascinated to see him working.  
  


* * *

  
  
Peter offers to hold the flashlight for him while he works and while Tony is, admittedly, typically a bit of a control freak about these things while he’s working, they’re both happy for Peter to have the distraction.  
  
After a few minutes tinkering around with silence filling the air, Tony begins to describe what he’s doing. Peter still has a little bit of a haunted look on his face, and Tony figures giving him a better distraction might help. He nods along as Tony speaks, and to his surprise, the occasional questions he interjects are actually pretty coherent, he seems to manage to intuit a lot of what’s going on, even if he lacks the proper terminology to explain in.  
  
Tony can’t deny the bit of pride that flares through him at that, maybe Peter’s a little smarter than he’d have guessed, not that Tony has ever thought of him as stupid. It’s just the reality of things that when Tony starts talking tech, most people hear static, even with the simpler things, like this. He gets it.  
  
But Peter’s face lights up, gradually losing the haunted shadow that had fallen over it, smile turning into something more genuine, inquisitive and less pained, so he keeps going.  
  
He’s so pleased by Peter’s enthusiasm for what he’s doing, that he forgets (mostly by accident) to warn him before he brings FRIDAY back online.  
  
Grinning to himself, he connects the last of the wires he’d pulled out to repair and readjust and is immediately greeted by the rest of his systems whirring to life, a pleasantly accented voice rings out through the saloon.  
  
_“Good evening, Mr. Stark. I see the system has been offline for several days, would you like me to run a full diagnostic?”_  
  
Peter sits up so fast he almost brains himself on the console. Tony laughs.  
  
“Yes, thank you, FRIDAY, try to figure out what knocked out the power in the first place, while you’re at it.” He slides out from under the controls, grinning to himself as he replaces the paneling.  
  


* * *

  
  
Peter feels a little silly when Tony starts to walk him through what he's doing, but it gives him something else to think about. He has no clue about electronics and wires, but the way tony explains it makes sense and he can see the connections the man is trying to make. He asks a few questions, feeling a little dumb until Tony smiles and answers them patiently, even seeming a little pleased at Peter's inquisitiveness.  
  
As Tony connects the last wires, a woman's voice rings out from somewhere Peter can't find and he's startled to say the least. He almost bangs his head on the bottom of the control station, but catches himself just in time and Tony laughs at him, calling out instructions.  
  
Peter looks around the room, still trying to figure out where the voice was coming from, well aware that Tony is amused, but too curious to stop searching. “Is that.. The computer?”  
  


* * *

  
  
Peter is looking around the room, half excited and half freaked out, searching for the source of the voice.  
  
“That’s FRIDAY, she’s my A.I.- artificial intelligence- she runs… well, everything. You’ll see when we get back to the tower.” The expression on Peter’s face tells him that all Tony’s done is raise even more questions, it’s more than a little fun.  
  
“FRIDAY, this is Peter, say hello.”  
  
_“Hello, Peter.”_ Tony could swear her voice is warmer than when she greets him, which is just plain ridiculous. It’s hard to be too bitter about it, though, watching the dazed look on Peter’s face as she addresses him.  
  


* * *

  
  
Peter laughs as the voice greets him. “Hi, Friday.” He replies, a little breathless in his amazement. He looks back over to Tony. “So, she runs all of the systems?”  
  
He had figured that Tony was smart, but this seemed.. Way above what he expected. Tony nods, watching him intently as if to see how much Peter can figure out for himself.  
  
“Friday, what's the date?” He asks, testing what she's capable of.  
  
_“It's the twenty-fourth of July, twenty-sixteen.”_  
  
“And how long until we reach land?”  
  
_“Current course is set for arrival on August first.”_  
  
He'd said that Peter would see more when they got to he tower? He assumes that's where he lives or where he works and if Friday is as integrated as he thinks.. Peter grins wickedly over and Tony before his next inquiry.  
  
“Friday, tell me something embarrassing about Tony.”  
  
_“At the Christmas Party last year-”_  
  


* * *

  
  
Tony watches Peter interacting with FRIDAY, testing her capabilities, and has to wonder if this is going to be a _thing_ now, for him. Some kind of strangely specific fetish, watching Peter figure out his tech, because it’s definitely doing it for him.  
  
Right up until the A.I. happily complies with Peter’s request that she humiliate Tony.  
  
“Mute! That’s about enough of that, you little shit.” He points at Peter as he says it, doing his best to look stern but entirely failing to hold back his grin. It really, really is wonderful seeing Peter get comfortable with his tech so quickly. He doesn’t want to sound like too much of a sap, but it makes picturing a future with him that much easier and- shit, too late. He sounds like a sap.  
  
He’s getting ahead of himself, anyways. They’re going to have to survive one hell of an arrival, and a lot of readjustment on Peter’s end, but picturing Peter in his life years from now just feels so _natural_ , it’s tempting to forget.  
  
“You,” He starts, stepping forward to wind his arms around Peter’s waist, pulling him in close. “Are a damn troublemaker, you know that?”  
  


* * *

  
  
Peter laughs against Tony's chest as he makes a mental note to follow up with Friday about that story later, and many, many others. For all that Tony has teased him, it's fun to finally get him back with a little chiding of his own and he can't wait until they're safe and he can really get to know Tony..  
  
He wants to learn everything about the man and as he's pressed up against his body, he's reminded of one very obvious thing that he still doesn't know about.. He runs his fingers up Tony's stomach and across his chest, stopping on the cool metal circle.  
  
“Is this.. Part of it?” He looks up at Tony, hoping that the question isn't out of line. “The computer, I mean.”  
  


* * *

  
  
When Peter’s fingers reach the reactor, a little of Tony’s bravado deserts him. It’s really the last hurdle of truth they have to face. When Peter realizes who he is, he’s going to really understand just how exposed he would inevitably be, being in a relationship with Tony. He only hopes it doesn’t scare him off.  
  
“No, it’s not. It’s a part of me.” He realizes, once he says it, that it’s a little redundant as the reactor is quite literally a part of his chest and Peter has likely already gleaned that much. “It's an arc reactor.”  
  
“Long story short, I got kidnapped a few years ago, doing business in Afghanistan- back when we used to sell weapons.” He winces, soldiering on. “Got blown up and they hooked me up to a car battery to keep the shrapnel from reaching my heart, got home and built myself this nifty little thing to replace it.”  
  
Peter’s face is… not good. He’s looking a little ill, and Tony is glad he spared him the gory details.  
  
“I know it sounds bad, and it was, don’t get me wrong, but some good did come out of it. If that hadn’t happened, I’d still be- well, a war profiteer, and I’d never have built the suit.” He searches Peter’s face for any dawning recognition, but there’s nothing, just some vague, lingering horror and confusion. He takes a deep breath, looking down at Peter seriously.  
  
“Peter, I’m Iron Man.”  
  


* * *

  
  
Peter listens to Tony talk about what he's been through and all he wants to do is hold him. Being on the boat with those men and their guns was scary enough for Peter, but for Tony to go through that again and to think he was dead, that he couldn't protect him..  
  
Peter knows that Tony blames himself, even though he'd been the one that ignored what Tony said, he'd been the one that pushed and got himself hurt. He can feel the guilt radiating off of Tony and Peter wishes that Tony never had to go through any of that, not this time and not before.  
  
He's starting to understand, Tony's protective nature and the fear he'd shown when they first met were making more sense, but then Tony looks at him more seriously than before and Peter steels himself for whatever truth he's been building up to. Peter reminds himself that Tony has accepted him and he waits for the words with an open mind.  
  
“You.. What?”  
  
He's almost completely speechless and his first instinct is to deny it, but he doesn't think that Tony would lie to him about something like that, not after Peter's bared his soul and his past to him. He just.. Needs more information. That's all.  
  


* * *

  
  
Peter gapes up at him, clearly not sure _what_ to think. It’s cute, but it’s not exactly what he’s going for, right now.  
  
“Iron Man,” He repeats, poking Peter’s chest where the little, cartoon Iron Man decorates his chest. “That’s me. I am the Iron Man, the Iron Man is me. Kid, look at what you’re wearing, I know you know who he is, do the math.”  
  
Peter continues to say nothing, it’s not doing a whole lot to soothe Tony’s frazzled nerves, but he does his best to keep a nonchalant face. If he’s not freaking out, maybe this will feel like less of a big deal, for Peter. “You just said Iron man was cool like, an hour ago, which you’re not allowed to take back, by the way.” He grins at Peter, but still, nothing.  
  
“Look, if you want-“ He sighs, cutting himself off as he tries to think of the best way to wipe any doubt from Peter’s mind so they can skip right to actually dealing with the revelation.  
  
“FRIDAY, pull up some of the test footage for the most recent build.”  
  
A moment later, a video appears on one of the windows, doubling as a screen, of Tony only partially suited up, testing the limitations of his newest model. It’s… a little clumsy, but it’s definitely proof. Tony’s heart is trying to beat its way out of his chest as he watches closely for Peter’s reaction.  
  


* * *

  
  
Tony is trying to joke with him, but he's too busy trying to wrap his head around the fact that Tony is Iron Man, his hero, the _world's_ hero. His favorite part about sneaking out to his friend's house on land had been seeing he news about what the Avengers were doing or what amazing thing Iron Man had done, but for all the times they'd sat around, watching videos of the hero, he couldn't remember once hearing Tony's name or seeing his face.  
  
Maybe it was just his priorities as a kid to lean toward the action-filled hero stuff, or maybe he had seen something and it just didn't seem fun enough to bother remembering. Either way, it wasn't long before Tony was pulling up a video of him, _clearly_ in an Iron man suit, testing its flexibility and reactions and what little doubt he had left was wiped away.  
  
“You're Iron Man..” He mumbles as he looks up at Tony from the screen, eyes wide. “That.. is **so cool**..”  
  


* * *

  
  
Tony grins at the awe in Peter’s voice, nerves giving way to pride and a more than a little flare of ego in no time flat. This is more like it. He’s no stranger to people finding him _cool_ , especially as Iron Man, but hearing Peter say it is already his favourite. The doe eyes and the fact that he’s still very much in Tony’s personal space don’t hurt.  
  
“Yeah?” He pulls squeezes his hips, pressing a little closer. “You like that, huh?” He’s very aware that it’s possible he should find it a little weird that Peter is, technically, a fan, but what about them isn’t weird, at this point? He chuckles a little at the look on Peter’s face. “Am I your hero?” He teases.  
  
He knows that once the awe wears off they’re going to need to talk about this, _again_ , discuss how this is going to affect Peter’s privacy, and their relationship, and just- everything. For now, though, Peter is distinctly not-horrified, the air between them is cleared, and Peter is staring up at him like he’s hung the moon. He’s happy.  
  


* * *

  
  
Tony's teasing him again, but all he can think is _yes_. He does like it and Tony _is_ his hero and if he thinks about it for too long, he's sure he'll find something wrong with that, but the adoration that he's always felt for Iron Man coupled with the way Tony is holding him isn't helping his brain work properly enough to really consider it.  
  
His wide eyes begin to droop as Tony squeezes his hips, invading his space and he's so overwhelmed because Tony's big secret had turned out to not be bad at all. Sure, there are probably downsides to being in a relationship with someone so important, but Tony is Iron Man and he can't seem to get past that just yet.  
  
He hooks his arms around Tony's neck and pulls him down to his height, all of the urgency and desperation they'd been ignoring for the sake of safety rushing back at once as Tony draws his tongue into his mouth. Peter lets out a groan and arches his back, hips sliding along Tony's and their both reminded that Peter's wearing nothing but a t-shirt.  
  
“Tony..” Peter mumbles against his lips, not sure how to ask for what he wants, so he rolls his hips again, hoping that Tony understands what he needs.  
  


* * *

 

Tony has _plans_ , very specific, detailed, vivid plans about what he would like to do to Peter. He’s been making them for longer than he cares to admit, and he’s not going to let them be derailed, but when Peter pulls him down to crush their mouths together, well, he’ll let himself get carried away for a moment or two.  
  
He kisses Peter back, open and messy and desperate, and when Peter’s hips roll up to meet his, his name slipping out soft and needy from Peter’s lips, he lets himself indulge with a groan and slips his hands down over the seam of his old t-shirt to grip the warm muscle of Peter’s ass and grind their hips together hard.  
  
Peter moans and Tony can hear the desperate pleasure in it. He remembers last time and, although he has no qualms about making Peter come more than once (in fact, he’s determined to do just that), he still doesn’t want him getting there quite so quick. He gathers every ounce of self control he has at his disposal and steps back, Peter’s protesting whine nearly breaks him.  
  
“Shh, don’t worry.” He soothes, pressing a kiss to Peter’s forehead with his hips held a safe distance away. “We’re gonna get there, soon, _very soon._ ” He promises, voice gone low. “Let’s go get cleaned up first, I’ve got a shower downstairs.” Truly, he cannot wait to get Peter cleaned up properly for the first time in years just so he can mess him up again. Know that every mark and mess on his body from that point on is one _he_ put there, no one and nothing else.  
  


* * *

  
  
One moment Tony's hands are gripping his ass and the next, the man is pushing him away and the ache is unbearable, only slightly soothed by Tony's promises that he just wants to shower first. He holds Tony's hand the entire time, letting him lead the way even though he knows where the bathroom is, since he cleaned it earlier  
  
Peter's no stranger to hot water, but the musky scent of Tony's soap filling the air around them relaxes him and he doesn't waste any time getting his hands on Tony's body again. When he lathers up Tony's hair, bending him down for a kiss as he works his fingers into the man's scalp, Tony groans, using his own hands to do the same for Peter, scrubbing away the built-up grime and saltwater and sand.  
  
Peter is doing his best to stay focused and not rush, but their bodies are slick and Tony's muscles feel so good under his fingers and then Tony's hands are kneading their way down to his backside.. He lets out a whimper as he tries to hold himself back, hands clinging to Tony's waist.  
  


* * *

  
  
Tony grins privately at the t-shirt one more time as Peter slips it over his head then gently pushes him into the shower, following him in and keeping him close. The shower isn’t all that big, not compared to Tony’s at home, but they leave plenty of room to spare.  
  
Peter’s hands drag through his hair as he pulls him down into a kiss. He can feel the days of dirt and sweat all washing away under his touch, both physically and metaphorically, and it strikes him as odd that something so simple should feel so good. Peter’s fingers running over his scalp is the best thing he’s felt in recent memory. He pulls back and does the same for Peter, savouring all the younger boy’s soft sighs and the way he goes lax against him.  
  
Once they’ve rinsed the suds from their hair Tony is unable to stop his fingers from chasing them down Peter’s back, pulling him close as his fingers slide over the smooth skin of Peter’s ass, digging in as he dips his head down to drag his teeth over Peter’s neck. He whimpers against him and he knows if he doesn’t want Peter to blow right away he’s going to have to slow down, though it tortures him to do so.  
  
Bringing his hands up, Tony reaches out to the shelf behind Peter to grab a washcloth, he quickly wets it and runs it over the soap so he can bring his hand back to drag it over Peter’s shoulders. He’s already pink from the heat of the shower, but Tony suspects that he’d be red all over, regardless.  
  
Tony runs the cloth slowly over his arms, his chest, teasing at Peter’s ribs and nipples just a little when he realizes he’s ticklish there, before sweeping his hand down to rub over Peter’s abdomen, tantalizingly low as he winds his other arm around his waist, leaving just enough room to be able to get a hand between them. Peter shudders against him and Tony can feel his own cock beginning to fill as warm pressure coils inside of him at the way Peter responds to his touch.  
  
He slips his hand around and dips the cloth into Peter’s cleft, dragging over Peter’s hole with just enough pressure to catch the edge of him and cutting off his moan with a kiss. It pains him to pull back, still not wanting to risk Peter getting carried over the edge quite so soon. He knows he can’t drag things out much longer before Peter goes off, so he grabs him by the hips and maneuvers him so he’s pressed against the wall, then drops to his knees in front of him.  
  
His cock is tantalizingly close and Tony wants so badly to reach out and taste it, see and feel and _taste_ the way Peter falls apart, but he’s already come this far.  
  


* * *

  
  
Tony runs the soft cloth over his body, tickling him accidentally and Peter lets out a soft laugh before Tony's hands move lower. Peter shivers despite the heat and he wonders if Tony has any idea how weak in the knees he feels as he washes between his cheeks, spreading him open slightly. It's all Peter can do to keep his body in check as he thinks about Tony slipping inside of him, filling him up.  
  
His fantasy gets sidetracked when Tony drops down to his knees and Peter has to take a deep breath and close his eyes not to lose it right there, Tony's mouth just inches away from his cock. If he could just shift his hips a little, he could just rub himself against Tony's lips and maybe the man would take him into his mouth..  
  
Peter unintentionally tips himself forward, unable to think of anything else, but Tony avoids him, determined to finish washing. He rests his head back against the wall of the shower as Tony's hand slips between his legs again, his fingers barely grazing across Peter's hole, slick with soap and he sighs. His breathing hitches when Tony tests his muscles, pressing more firmly as he circles around, before sliding in.  
  
It's just the tip, but Peter jerks, reaching out to grab Tony's shoulders to keep steady as the man twists and teases him with shallow motions and if it weren't for the water rinsing it away, Tony would be able to tell how badly he's leaking.  
  
“Tony.. Aah-” Peter moves a hand to his ass, spreading himself as he pushes back onto Tony's finger, wanting him to go deeper. “Ple-ease..” He knows his stamina isn't what Tony's is and that he should slow himself down, but he's so close and it feels so good, he just wants the man to stop teasing him already.  
  


* * *

  
  
When Tony’s finger slips just barely inside of him, Peter’s whole body jumps, hands flying down to dig into the meat of Tony’s shoulders. He’s dragging the cloth over Peter’s calves as he does it, itching to get Peter’s pretty cock in his mouth, and when Peter reaches back with one hand to spread himself open for Tony, desperately keening back against his hand, well, that about does it.  
  
“Ple-ease…” He manages. Tony drops the washcloth to the side, he was done, anyways, and shuffles forward so Peter’s cock brushes over his face, making the boy shudder, as Tony hitches one of his legs up over his shoulder so he can tease at him easier.  
  
Looking up at Peter, Tony wraps his free hand around his cock, smoothing his thumb over the soft skin down the side of it, and finally, finally shifts forward to drag his tongue up the bottom of him. Peter cries out and Tony can taste the salt struggling to gather at the tip as he sucks the head of him into his mouth. Peter is hard as a rock and he can feel his pulse in his cock in the throbbing vein of his cock, he knows he won’t last long so he presses his finger inside Peter just barely to the second knuckle and crooks it just a little, tugging at the rim of him and pushing him forward, encouraging him to thrust into his mouth and sucking hard.  
  
He can feel Peter’s full body shuddering as he pushes down far enough to rest his nose against Peter’s skin, inhaling the scent of him, it chokes out a desperate noise from his throat and the sound of it goes straight to Tony’s cock. He pulls back and sinks down again, feeling suffocated by the steam but not particularly feeling like air is much as a priority so long as he’s got Peter falling to pieces above him.  
  


* * *

  
  
Oh, god finally.. Tony lifts his leg, his entire boy thrown off balance, Peter gripping the man's scalp and the wall at the same time, trying to keep himself steady as Tony takes him into his mouth. Tony's finger presses deeper, tugging him forward and further into his mouth and for a moment, he forgets how to breath, mouth open but unable to draw a breath as his body shakes.  
  
Tony takes him all the way down and the feeling of his beard scraping at Peter's hips send electricity through him. He's torn between wanting to thrust forward into Tony's mouth or backward to impale himself further on the man's finger, so he alternates. With Tony's help he finds a rhythm as he rolls his hips, the pressure building until he can't take it anymore and he curls his body over Tony's head, pulling his hair roughly as his hips stutter.  
  
Tony pulls back as much as he can with Peter's entire body wrapped around him, coughing as come drips out of his mouth, rinsed away by the water.  
  


* * *

  
  
Peter’s breathing is too loud to be drowned out by the noise of the shower, hips jerking forward as he thrusts hard and erratic into Tony’s mouth and comes down his throat, catching him just a little off guard as he curls down over Tony, hands fisted in his hair to the point of pain. He’s _so_ wonderfully past the point of control, Tony doesn’t mind one bit. He’s only just gotten started and heat thrums through his veins when he thinks about what state Peter’s going to be in when he’s finished with him.  
  
He pulls back as much as he can manage, coughing as he lets Peter slip down just a little so he can lean back enough to grab him by the hair and pull his head back and down to kiss him. He pushes up into his mouth hard, tongue delving deep, he wants Peter to taste himself on Tony’s tongue.  
  
Peter is already a mess, worn out by the heat of the shower and the orgasm, but Tony isn’t planning on giving him long to catch his breath. He pushes Peter back up, back against the wall, and moves both hands to his ass, relishing Peter’s whimper when his finger slips out of him, and hefts him up so Tony can slip his leg off his shoulder. He leans forward to press a kiss to Peter’s pelvis and pulls back, pulling Peter forward by the hips and not giving him any chance to think as he spins him around and slides a hand up his back enough to push forward, forcing him to bend.  
  
He drags his hands over the backs of Peter’s thighs, squeezing tight once he reaches Peter’s ass and spreading him wide, thumbs brushing over the edge of his hole, pulling the muscle taut. He can’t help moaning at the sight of Peter spread out for him. He leans forward to sink his teeth into Peter’s cheek, just enough to make him jump, then begins dragging his lips upwards and inward. He can feel Peter shaking under his hands.  
  
When Peter makes a particularly pained noise, Tony takes pity on him, leaning forward to drag his tongue down the crease of him, stopping to rub over his hole, prodding at the ring of muscle enough to make him squirm but not quite enough to penetrate. He seals his mouth over him, sucking and tonguing, pushing just slightly harder every time.  
  
He leans back with a grin and lets one of his hands relax, bringing over just enough that he can slip the tip of his thumb into Peter. He’s already so damn tight, just the thought of how he’s going to feel around his cock is enough to make Tony twitch.  
  


* * *

  
  
Peter's breathless before Tony kisses him and he feels like his lungs are going to explode by the time he's done. Tony's tongue is salty and hot, a reminder of the way he'd completely unraveled Peter just moments before. The kiss is charged, filled with promises of what's to come Tony's way to telling Peter that they'd only just started and Peter feels like he might die from the anticipation.  
  
When Tony turns him around, Peter rests his head against the warm tiles, knees barely able to hold him up as Tony bends him forward, spreading him open. Tony's hands squeezing and kneading him before Peter feels his teeth sinking into his skin and he jumps, letting out a lengthy whine.  
  
He expects to feel Tony's fingers sliding into him again, but then Tony is licking up between his cheeks and fuck.. Peter didn't even know that was something that people did, but when Tony sucks him in, lapping at him with his tongue, he squeezes his eyes shut tight, dick twitching back to life.  
  
When Tony's tongue is replaced by his thumb, it stings a little with how thick and blunt it is compared to his other finger, but the burn just makes him think about how much bigger Tony's cock is going to be. Peter's own erection is bouncing between his legs thinking about how it's going to burn and he bites his forearm to muffle the moans he can't hold in any longer.  
  
Apparently Tony thinks he's had enough because he pulls out of Peter, standing behind him. Strong arms are wrapped around his waist and he can feel Tony, hot and hard sliding between his thighs. Peter rocks back against him, tilting his head as Tony kisses his neck, bucking his hips in the most tantalizing way and for a moment, he thinks it's about to happen, that Tony is going to press into him and take him against the wall.. But then Tony is backing away, lips dragging across his ears as he turns the knob to shut the water off.  
  


* * *

  
  
His cock catches over Peter’s hole and the younger boy’s breath slips out of him in a gasp. Tony knows what he’s thinking, what he _wants_ , for Tony to just push into him here and now, fuck him up against the wall of the shower til the water runs cold. He can’t say he blames him, it’s a deliciously inviting thought, pushing up into Peter’s warm body right this second, not giving him any time to adjust before he fucks him stupid. Peter would let him, he knows, but it’s not how he’s going to do this.  
  
Doesn’t stop him from lingering for a moment, though, applying enough pressure to keep Peter in limbo before he pulls away to turn off the water.  
  
He slides the door open and gently guides Peter out of the shower without stepping out himself. Peter’s legs are wobbly and impatient need fills Tony’s chest as Peter clings to him, he doesn’t want to let go, but he wants to feel a little more like himself before they really do this. He brings a hand up to hold Peter’s jaw, pressing a languid, messy kiss to his lips, Peter looks dazed when he pulls away.  
  
“Go, get on the bed, I’ll be there in a minute.” He commands, he uses his most authoritative voice, knowing Peter won’t want to let go. Indeed, Peter looks like he wants to push, but he nods instead. grabbing a towel on his way out of the bathroom. Once he’s gone, Tony turns the shower back on, not as warm as before, and grabs his razor. He makes quick work of his beard, lathering up his face and scraping away the hair as quick as he can without cutting himself.  
  
He’s not worried about a close shave, preferring to have it out of the way quick, unable to push Peter’s moans and gasps from his mind, imagining the sounds he’s going to make with Tony inside him. He just wants to feel like himself when he does it.  
  
He finishes up and gives himself a perfunctory but thorough scrub down. Once he’s done, he steps out of the shower to towel himself off, and stops to look at himself in the mirror for just a moment. He grins back at himself, his reflection feels familiar and right, not like the scraggly, bearded glimpses of his reflection he’d avoided beforehand.  
  
He drops the towel without a care and walks out into the bedroom to find Peter splayed out on his back with his legs already spread wide, one finger pushed inside himself. Tony’s cock aches heavy between his legs.  
  
“Jesus Christ, Peter.” Tony wastes no time, quickly grabbing the lube from the nightstand, knowing he’s not going to want to get back up for it, then climbs onto the bed to settle down low between Peter’s legs, kissing and biting at the inside of his thighs.  
  
“Don’t even try claiming you’re not desperate, this time.” He his voice is rough and it’s no goddamn wonder. Peter is the best thing he’s ever seen. He’s not quite shameless, Tony can see that he’s not used to being exposed like this, but he keeps going even with Tony up close like this anyways and Tony wants to _devour_ him. He leans over Peter to grab a pillow, stopping for a moment to kiss him and letting Peter pull him down into it as they grind together.  
  
He does extricate himself eventually, it’s with great difficulty but he has a larger goal in mind that’s going to be worth it for both of them.  
  
He bends over to wrap an arm around Peter’s hips, lifting him enough to tuck the pillow underneath him, then settles between his legs again. Squeezing lube out over his fingers and spreading it across them, he drops the bottle onto the bed, out of the way but within reach, and circles a finger around Peter’s furrowed hole, getting it wet around the slender finger Peter has already been pumping into himself.  
  
Once he’s sure Peter’s as ready as he’s going to be, he waits until he’s drawn his own finger most of the way out, and slips his in alongside it as Peter pushes back into himself, eyes fixed on Peter’s face as accommodates the new stretch.  
  
He knows Peter isn’t a virgin, but he can’t help wondering exactly what that meant. It doesn’t matter, not really, Tony’s determined to fuck him better than anyone else ever has, ever will, but the question of how just how far he’s been stretched in the past lingers in his mind.  
  
Their fingers pump in and out of him in unison, and Tony drops down to mouth at his skin again. He wants to taste Peter properly, and he doesn’t care to resist.  
  
He eases both their fingers out, whispering soothing words into Peter’s skin, and sinks both thumbs into him. He can feel Peter’s legs shaking around him as tugs him open just enough to lean forward and slip his tongue inside him, letting one of this thumbs slip out as he goes, taking care not to stretch him too much too fast.  
  


* * *

  
  
He loves it when Tony kisses him, but Peter is beyond frustrated when Tony backs away from him yet again. He almost argues when Tony tells him to go get on the bed, but something in his voice tells Peter not to push it. Still, he pouts as he grabs the towel, leaving Tony in the bathroom alone to do.. Whatever.  
  
Peter dries his hair and pats his skin just enough so that he's not dripping before climbing onto the bed, listening to the shower still running. The waiting is killing him and he knows that when Tony comes out, there's going to be more waiting because he's going to want to open him up more before they move on and he's not sure if he can handle that much time without Tony inside of him.  
  
He lays back, getting comfortable as he decides to help the process along, putting his finger into his mouth, getting it nice and wet before reaching down to slowly to push inside, not meeting much resistance after what Tony had already done. His other hand digs into his thigh, trying his best not to touch himself more than he has to, wanting to save that for Tony.  
  
When Tony comes out, Peter notices he's clean shaven, or at least more than he had been before- More like he had been when Peter first saw him. Tony looks like he's going to eat Peter alive and he keeps moving his finger, knowing that Tony is watching him as he grabs the lubricant, settling between his legs, biting the insides of his thighs hard enough that Peter knows there will be a mark tomorrow.  
  
Tony taunts him, but he doesn't care because Tony's kissing him again and when Peter pulls him down to rut against him, he allows it, indulging the boy's desperate need to be touched. Tony lifts him up onto the pillow with such care, making sure he's comfortable before pushing his finger in alongside Peter's and he lets out a heavy sigh at the stretch. It's nothing compared to the moments later when Tony's thumbs are replacing their fingers and he's not just moving inside him, he's stretching him open, tugging him until there's enough room for Tony's tongue to delve inside, licking him from the inside out and Peter's entire body is shaking at the sensation.  
  
Peter gets so lost in it, eyes rolling back and Tony licks and works his muscles, his hands fisting the blankets so that he doesn't hurt Tony with how badly he wants to grab him. He's panting achingly hard again by the time Tony comes up for air, placing wet, open-mouthed kisses up Peter's stomach to his neck. He's sucking the skin in and it stings, but he wants to see himself covered in marks made by Tony, able to run his fingers across them and remember exactly how they got there.  
  
“Please, Tony..” His voice breaks, the ache almost more than he can stand. “I can't wait anymore..” He whines as he wraps his legs around Tony's waist, his arms grabbing the man by the back of the neck, looking him in the eye, hoping that Tony can see how badly he needs Tony. “Please..”  
  


* * *

  
  
Peter’s voice breaks as he pleads and a shudder runs through Tony’s body. He wraps his legs around his torso with a whine, and- christ. Having Peter underneath him, begging to be filled up, it’s exactly what he’d wanted and it’s even better than he’d hoped. Nothing he’d pictured before could come close to leaving a mark on the real thing.  
  
“It’s going to hurt.” He warns, looking down into Peter’s eyes, blow wide with want. Peter nods, clearly uncaring.  
  
“Alright.” Tony leans back on his heels, though it pains both of them for Peter to let go, and retrieves the bottle of lube. He squeezes a generous amount into the palm of his hand and tosses the bottle to the side, not particularly caring where it lands, and slicks up his cock.  
  
“C’mere.” He grasps Peter by the thighs tugging him down the bed so their hips are pressed close, his cock nestled against Peter, and spreads his legs wide, the younger boy lets them fall open, easy and willing. He can’t quite resist the urge to drag his cock over the length of him. “Look at you.” He groans. “You don’t know what you do to me, kid.” He’s certain Peter must be able to hear the ache in his voice. He’s sure he’s never wanted to be inside someone this intensely, leave his mark on them this badly.  
  
When he leans over him again, one arm bent at the elbow, bracing him over Peter, the other wrapped around his cock, he gets enough leverage with his knees that once he lines himself up against him they’re close enough that the pressure of Peter’s slick hole is already pressing down against the head of him.  
  
He can feel Peter’s ring of muscle fluttering over the head of his cock, warring between Peter’s desire and a natural inclination to push away as anticipation hangs heavy in the air between them. Peter’s limbs are wrapped around him tight and he drops his head down to meet his lips as he finally begins the slow push into Peter’s body. They’re closer to sharing breath than they are to kissing, though Tony still nips at his lips, here and there.  
  
Peter’s breath comes out in stutters as Tony drags out the movement. He wants Peter to feel every inch of him with intense clarity.  
  


* * *

  
  
For a second, Peter thinks that there might be something wrong with him because when Tony tells him it's going to hurt, the warning doesn't put him off, instead it goes straight to his cock. He _wants_ to be sore after their done, able to feel everything that Tony's going to do to him long after it's done.  
  
Tony slicks himself and rubs against him, sounding as wrecked as Peter feels, the anticipation finally giving way as he presses against him, meeting resistance as Peter forces himself to relax. Tony's small kisses make sure that he keeps breathing, taking over his instinct to hold his breath as Tony enters him at an agonizingly slow pace.  
  
His entire body is shaking with tension as he feels every single movement, every twitch of Tony's cock as it sinks further into him until Tony is all the way, the thickness at the base of him stretching Peter wider still. Once Tony is buried deep in him, he pauses, reaching down to stroke Peter and it's a welcome distraction from the overwhelming sensation of being completely filled and surrounded by him.  
  
When Peter said he wasn't a virgin, it's entirely possible that he wasn't telling the truth, not if _this_ is what it's supposed to feel like. He and Christian had definitely done this before, he'd been penetrated him and they both fumbled their way to an orgasm, but it didn't feel anything like this. Tony was above him and inside of him, he was _part of him_ in every way and Peter wrapped tighter around him so that he couldn't move away just yet, wanting to savor the feeling just a little while longer.  
  
Tony dips his head down, kissing his neck as he whispers in his ear that he's going to start moving and Peter just nods, closing his eyes as Tony begins the slow drag out of him. His fingers clutch into Tony's shoulder as he pushes back in and he can feel his body starting to give way, letting Tony move more freely with each pass.  
  
It's not long before Tony's hips are moving more surely, Peter's mouth hanging open, small gasps of pleasure falling out as his own body starts to arch up to meet Tony's thrusts, taking him deeper. Peter mourns the loss of Tony's mouth on him when the man sits up, but the firm grasp on his waist, jerking him in time is more than an acceptable trade.  
  
Peter's entire body feels flushed as Tony fucks into him harder and Peter is clinging to him as he takes everything Tony has to give, wanting more but barely able to form the words to ask for it.  
  
“Tony!” His breath hitches as Tony snaps hard against him. “Aah- Nnggh.. Ye-..” Incoherent words slip out of him as his head falls back against the pillow.  
  


* * *

  
  
Tony reaches down to wrap a hand around Peter’s cock once he’s fully inside him, watching and feeling as the tension slowly bleeds out of him. Tony is aching to move, dying to feel the sweet drag of Peter’s body around his, but he lets Peter hold him close. Lets him take some time, shifting over his cock, adjusting, when his face falls into a relaxed pleasure, Tony drops a chaste kiss to his neck and warns him that he’s going to move. Peter doesn’t protest.  
  
He watches Peter’s face as he pulls back, taking it as a good sign when he sinks back in and Peter’s mouth falls open, fingers digging into his back. Pleasure courses through him with every thrust, warm and heavy, only spurred on by the small noises that Tony’s almost certain Peter doesn’t realize he’s making. The tightening coil in his gut spurs him to do more and he sits back on his heels so he can fuck into Peter better.  
  
Looking down at Peter, leaking cock, mouth hanging open in pleasure, flushed cheeks, he doesn’t particularly care to see anything else for the rest of his life. Peter is perfect. Perfect in his life, under his hands, on his cock, just fucking _perfect_ , and Tony is never letting him go.  
  
The sight of his cock sinking into Peter’s body over, and over again is one Tony knows he’s never going to forget. Peter takes him so, so well, so receptive, pulling him in, rising up to meet every thrust, and Tony just wants to give him everything, until he can’t take anymore, and then some.  
  
He slips out, immediately mourning the loss of Peter around him, and drags Peter to the edge of the bed, slipping one leg down off the bed to plant his foot firmly on the floor while he keeps his other knee propped up on the mattress, like this, he can tug Peter close and bring one of his legs up over his shoulder and sink into him as fully as possible. The new position gives him enough leverage to fuck up into Peter harder and faster than before, the new angle driving his cock up straight up into Peter’s sweet spot as he does.  
  
He’s got one hand wrapped around Peter’s cock, pumping him in time with his thrusts, and one hand wrapped around the bend of his hip, hard enough he knows Peter will bruise. He he can’t help looking forward to it. He wants to leave evidence of his touch all over Peter’s body. Mark him up until Peter can’t help feeling like he belongs to him, with him, when he sees himself in the mirror.  
  


* * *

  
  
When Tony slips out of him, he groans, but takes the moment of readjustment to really look at him. He's not sure if it's dampness from his shower or sweat from the work he's putting his body through, but the man is glistening, body flushed a slight red and Peter can feel the head radiating off of him as Tony lifts a leg over his shoulder. Sliding back into him, the angle is completely different and Peter chokes out a moan.  
  
He can feel his insides twisting up, knotting with pleasure, just waiting to be unwound as Tony's fingers circle his cock and start to stroke. Tony's not being gentle with him anymore and there's an underling pain to the way he's holding him, heightened by the way he's almost ruthlessly pushing into him, that's keeping him right on the edge. It's just enough of a twinge to keep him from losing control and he's so grateful for it, knowing that shortly after he comes, it will be over and he doesn't want to lose the feeling of Tony inside of him.  
  
Struck suddenly by the overwhelming need to kiss Tony, he leans forward enough to grab Tony by the back of the neck, tugging him down. It knocks the breath out of him when Tony bends him in half, his knee next to his head as he cranes his neck to meet Tony's lips.  
  
Peter moans into his open mouth, tongues dancing as Peter pants, Tony's eyes screwed closed in concentration. Tony's weight is crushing him, but he pulls the man closer as he babbles unintelligibly about how good he feels and how close he is.  
  


* * *

  
  
Peter pulls him down, desperation palpable in his movements, and Tony goes, sinking onto him as much as he can without losing force behind his thrusts and moaning when Peter’s leg stretches with his movements without complaint. Peter’s babbling, telling him how good Tony feels inside him, how he’s so, _so_ damn close to orgasm and Tony can taste desire on his tongue.  
  
He tightens his grip on Peter’s cock and kisses Peter back, messy and hard, dragging his mouth to the side and down Peter’s jaw as overwhelmed tears well up in the corners of the younger boy’s eyes.  
  
“Shh,” He whispers into Peter’s neck. “I’ve got you, Peter, baby. Let go. It’s alright.” Peter chokes and moans and Tony pulls back just to watch his orgasm take him. His tears slip free, whole body seizing up around Tony as he does his best to fuck him through it. Peter is strong, but he’s not quite holding so hard that it’s impossible to move. His hole clenches and unclenches around Tony and he’s only barely able to stave off his own orgasm as he drops down to push their mouths together as Peter rides out the last of his own.  
  
He’s moving slower now, shallower thrusts, mindful of how oversensitive Peter is as his body goes lax under him.  
  
“You did so good.” He groans into his neck, tone reverent and vehement. “So good, Peter, you’re perfect. You’re _perfect_.” He bites down and Peter moans softly. Tony’s legs are shaking and the intense pleasure that Peter’s orgasm brought them both has pushed him to the edge. He pulls back enough to rest his head against Peter’s, mouths still brushing.  
  
“You gonna let me come inside you, baby? You alright?” He’s almost certain Peter will say yes, but he wants to be sure. He knows not everyone likes being touched after they come, but Peter just smiles up at him, languid and satisfied, and gives him permission to go on, pulling him down into a messy, tongue filled kiss, still able to feel Peter’s smile against his lips.  
  
He brings both knees up onto the bed and holds Peter by the hips, letting Peter take the weight of him fully. Their skin is slick with sweat and Peter’s come and the slide of it is so, so good. He’s still got his arms wrapped up lazily around Tony’s neck, hands carding through his hair, and when Tony thrusts into him again they turn to fists, tugging just painfully enough.  
  
Peter’s leg has slipped down from his shoulder but it’s no issue, he’s still splayed open almost unbelievably wide for Tony, muscles relaxed by orgasm. Tony fucks him slow and deep, savouring the drag of his cock inside of Peter’s wet heat as the boy moans filthily against his lips, their mouths never quite separating as they alternate between sharing breath and messy licks and sucks and nips.  
  
When his orgasm finally, finally tears through him his mouth slips down to Peter’s clavicle and he bites down, hard. Peter cries out but doesn’t push him away as Tony’s hips push up into him erratically, pleasure rolling through him with force that squeezes the air from his lungs.  
  


* * *

  
  
The sound of Tony's voice easing him through the most powerful orgasm of his life is easily one of he best things that he's ever experienced. He's pretty sure he's crying, utterly overcome with emotions and pleasure as Tony holds him, telling him he's perfect and it's all Peter wants- To be good for Tony, to be everything that he needs and wants.  
  
He lays there, catching his breath as Tony actually asks if he can come inside him, as if Peter would say no. He nods, smiling as he's rewarded with a messy kiss as Tony drops his leg down, climbing up onto the bed fully, focusing all of his attention on feeling Peter around him.  
  
Peter fists his hands in his hair, feeling more sensitive with every slow, deliberate motion and then suddenly Tony is biting his chest as he comes, breathless and heavy on top of him as he collapses. Peter loves that Tony has marked him, feeling like he's been claimed, more than happy to give himself over to Tony.  
  
He holds the man's weight as he catches his breath and Peter can feel how slick it is between them, but the thought of getting up to get washed again is the furthest thing from his mind. Apparently, it's not for Tony because it's not long after he finishes that the man is standing, disappearing into the bathroom for a moment before returning with a warm, wet cloth.  
  
Tony cleans him so gently, careful of how sensitive he is and it really hits Peter how long it's been since someone has taken care of him. He throws an arm over his face, covering his eyes, dragging in a ragged breath as Tony kisses his hip tenderly. He tries to wipe his eyes before his tears are seen, but Tony's watching him too closely, tugging his arm to the side.  
  


* * *

  
  
The way Peter looks, marked up and worn out, vulnerable, _his,_ Tony wants nothing else more in this moment than to just take care of him. He always wants to take care of him, but right now it’s all that’s in his mind. He drags the wet cloth gently over his skin, leaning down to press a soft kiss to his bruised hip.  
  
He doesn’t miss Peter’s stuttered breath when he throws an arm over his eyes, and he allows him a moment before reaching up to pull his arm away from his face, catching sight of his tears before Peter can wipe them away. He lays down next to Peter and wraps his arms around him to drag him forward, tucking him into his chest.  
  
He’s sure Peter must be able to hear the way his heartbeat has ticked up, terrified that this is something he’s done. That he pushed Peter too far, that he hurt him. Anything. He can feel Peter trembling with the tears he tries to hold back.  
  
“Shh, hey, Peter. It’s alright.” He soothes, running his hand over Peter’s spine, pressing a kiss into his hair. “You don’t have to hide it.” He swallows, nervous. “If- if I did something, if I got carried away, hurt you at all, please, tell me. I never want to hurt you, Peter, I promise. That’s the last thing on earth I want.” He swears, vehemently.  
  


* * *

  
  
Peter sniffles against Tony's chest and the fact that he's so worried about having hurt him is just making him cry harder. He just doesn't know how he got so lucky to have someone like Tony come into his life, determined to take care of him and help him have a real life- Something he never thought he'd have again. Even if Tony wasn't Iron Man, he would still be Peter's hero.  
  
“No, it- You were great..” Peter tries to explain, wiping his eyes. “I promise.” He keeps his eyes down, not sure he can stand the look in Tony's eyes looking right at him. “It's just been a long time since someone has taken care of me.” He whispers. “I forgot what it was like..”  
  
Tony doesn't speak, he just holds Peter tighter, letting him go until he's finished. His face feels puffy, his head hurts from crying and he's utterly exhausted. He's also happier than he's been in a long time as he feels himself drifting off to sleep.  
  
In a week, they'll be on land and there will be a million problems to face, but for now, they're the only two people in the world and Peter holds onto him tightly. He almost wishes they could just stay this way forever.  
  


* * *

  
  
The vice that had tightened in Tony’s chest loosens when Peter promises this isn’t on Tony, but he still hate to see him like this. It makes him ache for Peter when he confesses that he’s forgotten what it feels like to have someone take care of him and Tony promises himself he’ll never have to be without that feeling again.  
  
He squeezes Peter tighter and lets him cry it out until his stuttered breaths slowly even out as he drifts into sleep. There’s things he has to do before he lets himself get some sleep, but he stays for a while. Holding Peter, trying not to think about how long he could have been stuck on that island if Tony hadn’t ended up there. As much as he had no desire to ever repeat the experience, he wouldn’t change that it happened.  
  
Eventually, he slips away, quiet and gentle as possible, pressing a light kiss to Peter’s brow as he murmurs in his sleep and pulling the covers up over him.  
  
He heads up to the saloon and drops into the chair in front of the window.  
  
“FRIDAY, call Rhodes.”

“ _Right away, sir._ ” _  
  
_ James picks up almost right away.  
  
“Tony?! Where’ve you been, man, I was starting to get worried.” Rhodey sounds warm, happy to hear from him, and maybe just a touched relieved.  
“Bit of a long story, got stranded on a deserted island-”  
“Very funny.” He interrupts, unamused.  
“No, seriously. Look, I’ve got a bit of a favour to ask you.”  
“Uh, no? How about we back up and you tell me what you mean by ‘ _stranded on a deserted island_ ’?”  
“I mean that I was stranded on a deserted island.” He repeats, using the matter-of-fact tone that he _knows_ drives Rhodey up the wall, just to hear his pained sigh, grinning to himself.  
  
“Are you serious? Really, actually serious?”  
“Cross my heart and hope to die.”  
“We- I thought you were just-”  
“On a bender?” Tony bites out. He wishes he could take it back almost as soon as he does.  
“Look, Tony, I’m sorry, it’s just-”  
“No, no. That one’s on me, that was actually the plan. Can’t blame you for guessing right.”  
“Alright, well, where the hell are you now? You’re safe?”  
“Yeah, yeah, we’re headed home, probably be there in about a week-”  
  
“ _We?_ Are you telling me you managed to pick someone up on a _deserted island?_ ” Tony swallows. Peter still hasn’t decided how many people he wants to tell, Tony doesn’t particularly care who knows, but he’ll let Peter decide once he gets a glimpse of the life he’s getting himself into.  
  
“No, no. I did not _pick up_ , but there was someone on the island, a kid. Sweet kid, I promised I’d help him get home, start over. I need you to dig up whatever you can so we can get him into the country.” Tony grabs the notepad he’d given Peter off the floor. “Look up May Parker, that’s his aunt, last he saw her she was living in Queens. That’s the only family he’s pretty sure is still around.”  
  
“Jesus, Tony.”  
“I know. Kid’s been through hell, just see what you can do, alright?”  
“Yeah, yeah, of course.”  
“Thanks. Look, meet us in L.A., alright? I’ll let you know when we’re getting close.”  
“Sounds good, Tony. I’m glad you’re safe, try and stay that way.”  
“I will.” Tony promises, then kills the line.  
  
Tony spends a few minutes fiddling with the system, double and triple checking that everything is fine just to take his mind off all the concerns swirling around in his head. They can wait until later. Right now, it’s just him and Peter, who is currently asleep in his bed, soft and warm, he can let himself savour this a while longer.  
  
He returns downstairs and crawls into bed, pulling Peter into his arms again. Peter goes without stirring much, nuzzling into Tony while he sleeps and it makes the anxieties buzzing in his mind quiet that much easier so that he can slip into sleep concentrating on the sound and feel of Peter’s breathing.  
  


* * *

  
  
When Peter wakes up, he's warm and there's a comforting weight draped across his back. He rubs his face on the pillow, blinking away the sleep as he looks over to Tony, laying on his side, facing him. It's still dark out, but the emergency lights combined with the pale blue glow from Tony's chest offer enough light to look at him.  
  
When they first met, Tony had been on guard all the time, like at any moment, someone was going to attack and now Peter understood why. His fingers circle the outline of the light in his chest, the 'arc reactor' as Tony had called it, still fascinated. Tony is Iron Man and dealing with bad people is just what he _does_. But now, lying in front of Peter, holding him close, there isn't an ounce of tension in him. His shoulder are relaxed and there's a small smile on his lips, spreading as he blinks his eyes open to watch Peter watching him.  
  
He doesn't ever want to see Tony scared or hurt ever again, though he knows that it will happen- It's just a fact of life for someone like Tony. It's just who he is, even without being a super hero. He's is someone that would give anything for the people he cares about, to keep them safe and take care of them. Peter has no idea how he got so lucky to be one of those people, but he'll do the same for Tony, every day for as long as the man will let him.  
  
He smiles a little, thinking back to something that Tony had said before. “This..” He places his hand over the arc reactor. “Protects your heart?”  
  
Tony nods softly and Peter leans forward, fingers falling away as he presses a soft kiss, whispering against the cool metal. “Thank you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, if you like it, let us know!


	5. Chapter 5

Peter is both the first thing Tony feels and the first thing he sees when he wakes up. He’s certain he’ll never get tired of it. When Peter places a hand over the reactor and asks him if he heard right, if it protects his heart, Tony nods, wondering what Peter is thinking but perfectly happy to let him ask anything he wants.  
  
He leans down and presses a careful kiss to it, whispering his gratitude into the metal and Tony- he didn’t expect that. He definitely didn’t expect the rush of emotions that threaten to overwhelm him as he struggles to choke them back. He doesn’t know how to articulate what he’s feeling, but he _wants_ Peter to understand, wants him to see how much this means to Tony, how much _he_ means to Tony.  
  
There’s one thing he could say, one thing he feels overwhelmingly, but he’s not quite able.  
  
Instead, he pulls Peter up close and tries to kiss him with as much feeling as he can muster, no intent outside the desire to make Peter understand all the words he can’t push past his lips. He’s not positive he does it all justice, but he does his damndest.  
  
Pulling back to smooth a hand over the side of Peter’s neck, Tony makes sure he’s looking into his eyes when he speaks.  
  
“Thank _you_. I wouldn’t be here without you, either, Peter.”  
  


* * *

  
  
It feels different when Tony kisses him this time, he doesn't exactly know why or how, but it definitely does. There's something heavier than just want behind it, a different kind of desperation than they're used to. When Tony pulls back and looks into his eyes, he sees it there too and while he doesn't know what it means, he never, ever wants Tony to stop looking at him like that- Like's he's _everything_.  
  
Part of him wants to tell Tony the same thing, that he'd still be on an island all alone, for god knows how long if Tony hadn't shown up, but it's not a contest of who's saved who and he can tell that Tony wants him to understand how grateful he is, so he accepts it. He pulls Tony closer, resting his head on the man's chest as he fades back into sleep, not quite ready to let him go and face the day just yet.  
  
When the light starts to sneak in, it's another story and the rumbling of his stomach isn't so easy to ignore. He slowly, delicately removes himself from Tony's embrace, stilling when the man grumbles slightly, but he breathes easy when he curls into the pillow, relaxing.  
  
In the control room, he looks around curiously before calling out. “Friday?”  
  
“Good morning, Peter. Can I help you?”  
  
He smiles as she greets him. “Can you stop the boat, please?”  
  
“Of course.” He can hear the engine decelerating until the boat is floating loosely in the water.  
  
“Could you also let Tony know I'm going fishing, if he wakes up before I get back?”  
  
“I'll tell him.”  
  
“Thank you.”  
  
“You're welcome, Peter.”  
  
He grins again. He definitely likes Friday. She's nice, even if she is just a computer. He walks out onto the deck, cautiously surveying the open ocean before diving in once he confirms that they're alone.  
  


* * *

  
  
This time, when Tony wakes up the bed beside him has gone cold. He reaches out, still groggy, shaking the haze of sleep from his consciousness, but doesn’t find anyone there.  
  
His heart leaps into his throat and he has to tell himself to relax, Peter’s probably just in the bathroom or eating breakfast, maybe just talking to FRIDAY, it could be anything. He doesn’t _have_ to be here when Tony wakes up, it doesn’t mean anything’s happened to him.  
  
Jumping off the bed, he quickly checks the bathroom. There’s no sign of Peter there and he forces himself to walk out of the bedroom instead of running. When he gets upstairs to find that Peter isn’t anywhere in the living room or kitchen, the anxiety buzzing in the back of his mind gets louder.  
  
When he finally makes is up onto the deck, taking the steps into the saloon two at a time, Peter is nowhere to be found. He stands frozen by the window, heart beating hard enough that his hands are shaking, white knuckled where they grip the headrest of the seat in front of him. What could have happened?  
  
He’d _know_ if something, or someone, had hurt Peter. There’d be some sign of it, but then that means- he must’ve done something to make Peter leave. He- he shouldn’t have believed Peter about the reason behind his tears, he’d pushed him too far. Or maybe he just hadn’t appreciated him enough? He should have told him-  
  
“Good morning, Mr. Stark.” Comes FRIDAY’s voice, almost unwelcome in its pleasantness when Tony is trying to concentrate on his meltdown.  
  
“Peter has asked that I inform you he’s gone fishing this morning.”  
  
…Fishing?  
  
He’s fairly certain he doesn’t have- oh. _Oh.  
  
Fishing.  
  
_ Of course, fishing for Peter isn’t exactly what it is for Tony. He’s so relieved that he hardly even minds feeling like an idiot, it’s not something he typically copes well with.  
  
Tony decides he’s going to grab his tablet and wait out on the front of the boat. He asks FRIDAY to queue up some music and gets to fiddling around. He’s not doing anything particularly important, just toying with some designs he’d been in the middle of when everything went awry, but he needs something to keep his mind just occupied enough to block out the unsettled feeling lingering over him until Peter gets back.  
  


* * *

  
  
Peter is excited to try fishing with his newfound strength, eyeing a large tuna that before, he'd never considered going after. Peter's not entirely sure if it will fit in the net he's got, which is just a mesh bag that he pulled from Tony's closet, but if he can just get it out of the water and onto the deck of the boat, he'll be fine.  
  
It's significantly easier than he'd imagined, aside from the squirming, and when he breaks the surface, he slings the netted bag up onto the lower deck before pulling himself up. He takes a moment to tie the bag to the railing before hoisting himself up onto the upper deck, surprised to hear music playing from the control room. He doesn't see Tony right away, but he sees motion on the front side of the boat. He slinks back down the stairs and into the water, swimming around to the front.  
  
He swims down further, gaining momentum as he breaks the surface, reaching up to grab the edge of the boat with nothing more than a small splash. He peaks his head up, resting his head on his elbows, watching Tony, lost in whatever he's working on. He'd wanted to surprise Tony with breakfast, but he must have woken up shortly after Peter left him.  
  
Peter watches for a moment, feeling a little playful. He swishes his tail in the water, bending it to gather a small amount of water before flicking it upward and over the railing onto Tony, who jumped up in surprise.  
  


* * *

  
  
When cold water splashes over him, Tony immediately jumps up in shock. He swivels around, searching for the source of the water, and his eyes land on Peter, looking up at him over the edge of the boat with a devious smile.  
  
“Now that’s hardly fair.” Tony complains. “What the hell am I supposed to splash you back with?”  
  
He shuffles over to the edge of the boat and changes course last minute, taking off down the side of it.  
  
“Loser has to-ah, shit!” He shouts back, having already given himself a head start, only to be cut off by a stumble when he catches his foot on a rail bar. By the time he hops down the stairs, breathless, Peter’s already grinning up at him from the low ledge at the rear of the boat. Tony huffs and drops down to dangle his legs into the water next to Peter.  
  
“I’m choosing to believe this is the result of your super strength and not my age.” He pants. He’s growing concerned that he’s fallen a little too out of shape since ending up on the island.  
  


He takes the opportunity to admire the shimmer of Peter’s scales under the surface of the water. Even obscured, they’re incredible, gorgeous.  
  


* * *

  
  
Peter laughs when Tony takes off, trying to race him, but having no clue how fast Peter is when he's in the water. He beats him to the back of the boat, grinning as Tony catches his breath, staring down at him.  
  
“I caught us lunch.” Peter pulls himself up onto the deck, glancing over to the huge fish. “And dinner.” He raises his eyebrow, gauging the size. “For the next couple of days. I hope you like tuna?”  
  
With his strength, it's easy to tug himself up the steps to sit next to Tony, his long tail cascading down the staircase. He can see Tony's eyes transfixed on him and he smiles. “You can touch it, if you want.” He turns himself so that his tail is in front of Tony.  
  
When Tony reaches out his hand, he's more than a little nervous. In a way, it feels more intimate than what they did last night- No one has ever touched his tail outside of his family, but he trusts Tony enough to let him do it. He _wants_ him to. Tony's hand is still firmly on him when he starts to change and it tingles, tiny foam bubbles popping between them before they slide away.  
  
“Have you ever met anyone else.. Like me?” Peter hasn't heard of any other people like him, but Tony probably knows about almost every inhuman person there is. If anyone knows anything about people like him, it's Tony.  
  


* * *

  
  
Peter gives him permission to touch his tail, if he wants, still sounding nervous, like there’s any world in which he _wouldn’t_ want to. He wonders, not for the first time, if Peter understands how incredible he is. He suspects not.  
  


Reaching out and flattening his hand over the almost iridescent silver-blue scales, he’s surprised to find Peter’s tail as warm as it is. Some subconscious part of him had expected it to be as cold as the water that makes it appear. The scales are clearly textured, but still soft. He wonders how sensitive they are? Can Peter feel it when they disappear? As he runs his hand along with the grain of them, tiny bubbles start to seep up from between the scales and around Tony’s fingers. More and more until they overtake the scales and fall away entirely, leaving Tony’s hand resting on Peter’s soft skin.  
  
“Have you ever met anyone else.. Like me?”  
  
Tony still hasn’t looked up from Peter’s legs, but his question draws his focus enough to meet his eyes.  
  
“Well, depends what you mean. I’ve met a lot of people with powers, some who transform, but none exactly like this.” He confesses, drawing a thumb back and forth over Peter’s kneecap as he thinks of what else he can offer Peter, give him a little sense of being less alone. “There’s more coming out of the woodwork every day, though. I’m sure there’s a few people out there like you.” He grins over at him. “None with tails as beautiful as yours, though, I bet.”  
  


* * *

  
  
Peter blushes a little at the compliment and Tony's smile, feeling a little like it's too good to be true. How could someone as amazing as Tony, _Iron Man_ , think that he was anything worth smiling about?  
  
“We should start working on lunch.” He smiles as he grabs the knife he set out on the bench earlier and starts to moved down the stairs. “Can you make something to go with the fish?”  
  
Tony nods, moving down into the boat, calling out for Friday to start moving again on his way. Peter does the world's quickest gut job, rinsing the two meaty halves of the fish in the water before putting them back in the bag, following where Tony went down the stairs. After lunch, he'll clean the fish properly and make them a nice set of fillets, but for now, it's done enough not to leave a mess while he's cooking.  
  
In the kitchen, Tony has started to saute some rice and herbs and it already smells amazing. He puts away half of the fish, pulling out a large cutting board for the other half, thankful to have put everything away the other day, so he doesn't have to rely on Tony for directions, though Tony still asks if he needs anything.  
  
“Just a hot pan.” He smiles over as he takes the time to remove the bones and smooth his cuts, portioning the large fish into pieces just slightly smaller than his fist. He wraps the majority of the pieces and places them in the refrigerator along with the other half. He knows the fish won't take long to cook, so he leaves them sitting, moving over behind where Tony is standing at the stove, wrapping his arms around the older man.  
  
Peter watches Tony cooking from his side, listening to the soft music that's playing and he wonders if this is what it's going to be like when they get back? He knows that Tony has a company to run and he's probably busy saving the world, but if they can have these little moments, it will be worth it. As long as they can be together, just the two of them, just for a little while, everything will be okay.  
  
When the time comes that Tony is almost done, he breaks away, putting two pieces of fish into the hot pan. They cook, side by side for a few minutes, Peter glancing up at Tony with a soft smile every now and again. Tony finishes first, plating his rice onto two plates, setting them on the counter next to Peter, who places the fish on top once they're perfect cooked.  
  
Sitting down with their dishes, Peter can't help but think that they make a good team, complimenting each other perfectly.  
  


* * *

  
  
They eat in relative silence while Tony contemplates the realization that he’d had standing over the stove.  
  
It had struck him that this is the first time he and Peter have really shared space, in a functional, real living way. More than that, it feels natural. Even in crisis, Tony isn’t exactly known for opening up easy, clicking well with others, and of the Avengers- or, ex-Avengers, could tell you that, but with Peter, falling into step just feels so simple. Obvious.  
  
Perhaps it should scare him more than it does, maybe it will, at some point, but for the time being he’s more inclined to pat himself on the back for how very much he Is _not_ freaking out. He supposes that after being faced with the possibility of losing Peter so many times in such a short span, opening himself up to the possibility of being hurt by him doesn’t seem so bad, as long as he’s around.  
  
It might not be the happiest thought for most people, but Tony is not most people and the thought fills him with a sickly sweet warmth he’d never cop to out loud. He does, however, allow himself to hook his ankles together with Peter’s under the table. He catches the younger boy grinning up at him as he eats.  
  
“Shut up.” He warns, preemptively. He’s allowed to be a little bit of a cliche, now and then. It’s what he does.  
  
It idly occurs to him that Peter could probably use a little catch-up on his cliches, realistically, so could Tony. He can’t actually remember the last time he sat down and just watched something.  
  
“Hey, you want to watch a movie tonight?” It feels kind of like an absurd question, after everything, but he feels driven to take advantage of this time they have before all of the responsibilities of real life are back on his shoulders.  
  


* * *

  
  
They spend the day lounging around the boat, just talking, mostly about inconsequential things, neither wanting to venture into more serious territory just yet. They'll have plenty of time for real life when they're on land and there's no avoiding it anymore. For now, they talk about stupid things, like Tony's favorite color and Peter's favorite food.  
  
Once the sun is down, Peter has an idea and he grabs Tony's hand, leading him to the front of the boat to lay down, resting his head in the crook of Tony's arm. “Friday, can you turn out all the lights, please?” She doesn't respond, but the lights start to dim until they're completely in the dark. The view is one of Peter's favorite things- The pitch black night speckled with stars, dusty trails of light stretching across the sky.  
  
“I'm gonna miss this.” Peter muses to himself as he remembers the dull sky of he city, the lights far too bright for the stars to shine through. It was worth it, though. He'd give up all the stars in the universe to get to lay with Tony like this every night.  
  
They lay there, watching the stars until Peter remembers Tony's offer from earlier to watch a movie. “So, what movie should we watch?”  
  


* * *

  
  
When Peter pulls him out onto the deck to look up at the stairs, Tony won’t pretend he’s not a little anxious. He remembers the night of the storm, being out here looking up at these same stars, finding himself haunted by the trauma of New York.  
  
It’s still there, he still can’t quite manage to look at them and not feel a little nervousness creeping up his spine as he wonders what could be out there, unable to stop himself from feeling like the sky could tear itself open at any moment and fresh horrors could pour out, though he knows it’s unlikely.  
  
This time, though, things are a little different. This time, when he looks away from the stars he can look down at Peter, seeing Peter’s expression, so utterly at peace, it’s not so bad. Peter tells him he’s going to miss this, and as Tony spends most of their time on the deck watching Peter, rather than the stars, he thinks he agrees.  
  
When he asks him what movie they should watch Tony takes a minute to ponder the question. Something classic, not too sad, not too fluffy, just the right amount of action.  
  
“Die Hard.” He grins, the perfect movie. Truly. “You seen it?” He knows Peter didn’t even exist when it came out, but it’s a _classic_. Even if Peter says no, they’re watching it, now that he’s thought of it he’s not going to be satisfied until he does, and there won’t be a chance once they get back.  
  


* * *

  
  
Peter shakes his head- He hasn't seen the movie, but Tony' excitement is enough for him to want to watch it. They head downstairs and settle into the bed and for a moment, Peter is confused, because there's not a television in the bedroom, but at the push of a button, a small projector is dropping down from the ceiling and the wall is illuminated.  
  
He's no stranger to technology, though he is a few years behind- He knows how to use a computer and is familiar with smart phones. Still, the technology that Tony has on hand is _so_ much more advanced than anything he's ever seen before and it's nothing short of amazing. He can't wait to see what else Tony has when they get to his home, feeling like this is only the beginning.  
  
Tony props them up with pillows and Peter watches as the opening credits begin. It's not hard to see why Tony suggested it, the movie is full of action and explosions, with a handsome hero saving the day. Sounds familiar..  
  
When the movie is over, Tony is eager to hear what he thought and Peter smiles at him. “It was good.” He props himself up on his elbows, pressing a kiss to Tony's cheek. “I liked it.” They laughed about some of the ridiculous stunts and he almost thought Tony was messing with him when he said that there are five more movies in the series.  
  
They didn't bother getting out of bed again, both falling asleep easily in each other's arms. The next morning, Peter does manage to wake up and make breakfast before Tony is out of bed. He makes two bowls of brown sugar and honey oatmeal and carries them over to where Tony is still asleep, setting them on the table next to the bed.  
  
Peter kneels on the bed, crawling on top of him slowly. He leans down, planting soft kisses on Tony's jaw. “Time to wake up, Tony..”  
  
It starts off innocently enough, trying to softly coax Tony from his deep sleep, but as he kisses down the man's neck, backing up, he feels a hardness brush against him from under the thin blanket and he gasps. He shifts the material away before settling himself back into position, sitting back against Tony's bare cock, letting it slide against his ass as he rolls his hips.  
  
“Mmm, Tony..” He sighs, eyes slipping closed, his hands on Tony's chest keeping him steady as he rocks and it's not long before he feels strong hands on his thighs. He peaks his eyes open just enough to see Tony biting his lip, watching him move and he smiles.  
  
“Good morning.”  
  


* * *

  
  
For once, Tony is having a very, _very_ good dream.  
  
He’s got Peter pinned down, they’re in his room in New York but somehow the sun is shining down onto them. Peter’s hair is wet and his skin is soft and Tony’s cock is sinking into him like his body was _made_ for him.  
  
Of all the many, many mornings Tony has woken up to find reality a far cry better than the dream (or nightmare) he’s been pulled from, this is the first time in years that it’s truly unexpected. When he opens his eyes to find Peter having tugged the sheets down to grind back against his cock, eyes closed as he makes the most delicious noises of appreciation, Tony wants to cry with how unbelievably hard it gets him, as if he wasn’t there already.  
  
He bites down hard on his lip as his hands move to smooth over Peter’s thighs without thinking.  
  
“Good morning.” Peter smiles down at him.  
  
“Is it ever.” Tony has a very limited window of time to decide where he wants to take this. He hasn’t got long, neither has Peter, by the look of things, but _fuck_ he wants to be inside him so bad it hurts.  
  
He makes a snap decision and sits up, keeping Peter in his lap leaning up to kiss him as his hands slide up his thigh to grope at his ass, spreading him wide so his cock drags over the centre of him.  
  
“Ride me?” He asks- begs, more like, against Peter’s lips.  
  


* * *

  
  
Peter reaches over to the table, ignoring the cooling breakfast in favor of the lubricant in the drawer, fumbling with the latch that holds it closed, finally pulling the small pump bottle out. He squirts a fair amount onto his hand, reaching back to stroke Tony's cock, feeling his chest rising rapidly as Peter slicks him up.  
  
He considers stretching himself a bit, but he wants to feel Tony filling him, even if it hurts a little. He shifts his hips backward, lining himself up, the tip teasing at his entrance before he slowly starts to lower himself down. He relaxes his body, pushing back against Tony until he finally slips in, Peter's body swallowing him up.  
  
Tony's fingers dig into his his ass and he can see the man straining, holding himself back from fucking up into Peter with all of his might. His lips fall open and he lets his head fall back as inch by inch, maddeningly slowly, he takes Tony into him until he's fully seated on the man's lap, pausing there to adjust to his thickness.  
  
He can feel Tony pulsing inside of him, his legs twitching from being tensed as he waits for Peter to start moving. As Peter rocks his hips forward, Tony's head falls back against the headboard with a thud and he groans. If Peter had any sort of control left over his body, he would smile at how easily it is for him to unravel Tony, but his muscles are moving on their own, hands reaching down to rest on Tony's forearms as he arches his back.  
  
Finally, Tony's will breaks- He bucks his hips up and Peter lets out a ragged cry, his body jolting forward from the impact. He braces himself on the headboard, hands gripping either side of Tony's head as he drops his head next to Tony's, lips dragging across Tony's ear as he moans.  
  


* * *

  
  
He expects Peter to get himself stretched out, maybe hand the bottle to Tony so he can do it, but instead he’s reaching back to slick Tony’s cock and Tony’s mouth is going dry when he straightens out, lining up against the head of him and bearing down.  
  
He doesn’t give right away, but when the tip of his cock finally penetrates the ring of muscle he wants to cry because Peter is _so_ remarkably goddamn tight around him. Tony swallows hard, muscles uncomfortably taut with the effort of holding himself still as Peter sinks down on him at a pace so slow it’s actually painful.  
  
The only thing that draws his mind away from the urgency burning through his veins is Peter’s face as he takes in the feel of Tony splitting him open without any preparation. Peter’s hips finally press against his when Tony bottoms out, and when he rocks back on his cock Tony slumps back with a groan, dropping his head against the headboard with a dull thud.  
  
Peter is truly going to be the death of him.  
  
He feels Peter clench experimentally around him and that’s- he can’t- he’s genuinely running out of time, here, and his control has officially tapped out.  
  
Hands getting a firm hold on Peter’s ass he holds him up so he can pull back and snap his hips up into the younger boy’s body. He groans as Peter cries out with startled pleasure, body vaulting forward so that the next time Tony pushes up into him he’s moaning straight into his ear.  
  
It takes no time at all for him to start fucking up into Peter in earnest, hard and fast as he can manage. They’re on a sprint, no holding back, and Tony’s heart is racing so fast it aches. At first, Peter struggles to meet his thrusts but eventually he manages, choking on moans until the only word he’s got breath for is Tony’s name.  
  


* * *

  
  
It takes him a minute, but when he finally manages to match Tony's pace, he sees stars behind his clenched-shut eyes. He's so full, Tony's girth stretching him to his limit and his own cock is trapped between their bodies, being jerked about with each motion.  
  
Tony's name is all he can say, all he can think of as he tips over the edge, spurting hot and wet across Tony's chest, smearing across his own as he continued to move, not wanting to stop until Tony has finished inside of him. He doesn't have to wait long and thank god, because as soon as Tony begins to still, his knees give out and he collapses back onto Tony's lap, letting Tony bury deep into him as he finishes.  
  
Peter rests his head on Tony's shoulder, chest heaving, shoulders shaking, taking a breath before he lifts up, Tony slowly slipping out of him. He whines as the man's flared tip tugs at his muscles and his cheeks go red as he feels the wetness dripping down his thigh once he's pulled out completely. He pulls his face away just enough to look at Tony before kissing him, slow and lazy.  
  
“I made breakfast.”  
  


* * *

  
  
Peter whines as the head of Tony catches on his sore ring of muscle while slipping out of him, and it’s enough to make him feel just the right type of filthy. Peter kisses him, messy and unhurried and Tony feels like he could linger in this particular brand of afterglow with Peter forever.  
  
“I made breakfast.” Peter grins.  
  
“Hmm.” Tony leans forward to kiss him some more. “I would say I’m sorry it went cold, but I’m not.” He pulls Peter down, rolling him to the side so he can pin him down just a little, fingers skittering up over his ribs where he knows Peter is ticklish, watching him giggle and convulse and thinking about lucky he is to have this.  
  
He’s stuck in a sappy post-orgasm haze, and he refuses to admit that he may just _be a sap_ , plain and simple, at this point.  
  
Eventually he pulls away, giving them both a moment to catch their breath before moving to grab the food Peter had brought down. It’s cold, but Peter is warm, leaned against his chest, and they get to eat it in bed, so it’s perfect.  
  


* * *

  
  
They spend the next couple of days catching Peter up on some of Tony's favorite movies and current events, but his favorite part is the almost constant sex. It wasn't long ago that Peter went through puberty, so he knows a fair share about being insatiable, but the things that Tony does to him.. It's clear the man has experience and while a small part of Peter is jealous, most of him is thankful because Tony is teaching him so much and everything they've done feels so good.  
  
Peter's nerves are on edge now, though, as he watches the shore get closer and closer. They've been passing other boats for a while, and he can feel the anxiety building with every minute. The most people he's been around in years was the bad guys that took him and Tony, so it's hard to tell his mind that the boats full of people surrounding them aren't a threat.  
  
Now that he can see land, it's somehow getting worse. They're pulling into Los Angeles, a huge, bustling city with _millions_ of people and the thought of constantly being surrounded takes his breath away and not in a good way. He also doesn't want his time with Tony to come to an end and as much as Tony promises that everything will be okay, well.. It's the first time Peter hasn't believed him.  
  
Tony has a company to run, a world to keep safe- There's no way he's going to have time for Peter once the get back, at least not like they have now. It's selfish, he's aware, and it's better than being all alone on the island or in the ocean, but it still hurts to think about. Part of him wishes they'd just stayed on the island forever.  
  
“Tony..” He grips Tony's hand tightly, looking up at the man, unable to hide how worried he is, so he just comes right out and says it. ”I'm scared.”  
  


* * *

  
  
Tony has to admit, he’s going to miss their time on the boat. He’s anxious to get back to New York, back home, back to his suit and his money so he doesn’t have to feel so powerless, back to his responsibilities, surprisingly enough. But, still, he’s going to miss all this open air, the feeling like they’ve stepped out of time, having nothing much to do except, well, each other.  
  
That’s definitely the part he’s going to miss the most.  
  
Some ridiculous part of him is legitimately concerned that Peter’s going to feel the need to start wearing clothes all the time once they get back to New York, mourning the feeling of having him so… Available, already. He doesn’t care how much he has to turn up the heat in his penthouse, he really, really will do everything in his power to stop that from happening. It’s not just that Tony likes having Peter walking around nude, honestly, he sincerely wants him to feel comfortable. He’ll let him do whatever he wants, he can remodel the damn penthouse, if it helps, he just wants him to stay.  
  
He can feel Peter getting antsy, though. It’s making him nervous in turn, but he tries to keep a lock on it. This is going to be a lot for Peter, he needs Tony to be his support and Tony is determined not to fail him _again_. When they can see land in the distance, Tony takes him downstairs and fucks him one last time before they hit land, trying to chase away the anxiety, going deep and slow, lingering until Peter can’t focus on anything else.  
  
It works for a while, but later on when they’re both showered and dressed, Peter looking a little rumpled in the most slim fitting clothes of Tony’s they could find, still not quite slim enough, Peter looks at the L.A. skyline and tells Tony he’s scared, squeezing his hand between his own.  
  
They’re sitting at the control panel, too close, now, to leave the boat to drive itself, and Tony turns in his chair, placing his free hand over Peter’s.  
  
“I know this is going to be hard for you, but I need you to get that I’m going to be there. For all of it, okay?” Peter doesn’t look much less afraid, but he nods, anyways. Tony pulls his hands up to press kisses into Peter’s knuckles. “Seriously. I’m going to make this as easy as it can be, for you. You’re not going to have to do anything you don’t want to alone.” Peter doesn’t look entirely steady, still, but he does seem a little reassured. Tony spends the rest of the time telling Peter all about the tower, the best street meat in all five boroughs, anything he can think of to keep his mind relatively at ease.  
  
When they finally dock, Rhodey is waiting. Peter is looking more than a little afraid, and Tony grips his shoulder as they disembark. Steadying, but not such an intimate touch that it gives them away. Rhodey still looks a little suspicious at the contact, but mostly he looks relieved to see Tony in one piece and sober.  
  
He feels bad letting go of Peter when Rhodey steps in for a hug, but it’s only for a minute. They pull back, still gripping each other’s arms as they exchange greetings.  
  
“I still cannot believe you legitimately got yourself stranded on a deserted island, in the twenty-first century.” Rhodes laughs.  
  
“Clearly, really appreciate the concern, pal.”  
  
“You! Tony Stark! Have you even seen the sun in the last five years, voluntarily? _You_ got stuck on a deserted island. You!”  
  
“Yeah, Rhodey. I get it, I was there.” He huffs, rolling his eyes and letting go, but still unable to hold back a grin at the familiar teasing.  
  
He puts a hand over the small of Peter’s back to pull him forward a little.  
  
“This is Peter. He’s pretty much kept me alive the last couple weeks.” Rhodey’s eyebrows climb up as he turns his attention to Peter, amused and impressed.  
  
“Stuck with this guy for two weeks? And you _saved him_? I’m pretty sure most people might’ve killed him, in that much time. I’m Colonel James Rhodes, Tony’s friend and occasional babysitter-”  
  
“Hey!”  
  
“Nice to meet you.” He plows on, holding a hand out to Peter with that warm smile and personable ease that Tony envies.  
  


* * *

  
  
Peter's nerves are calmed slightly by the easy way that Tony and his friend talk, laughing a little as James- Or Rhodey as Tony called him- Teases Tony about his misfortunes. The man has a kind smile and when he reaches out to greet Peter, he reaches back.  
  
“Nice to meet you too.” His voice is more steady than he feels and he manages a smile because it _is_ nice to meet a friend of Tony's.  
  
Tony's hand on his back keeps him grounded and boy, does he need it as the two of them talk about documents and legalities. Peter's not sure that he can be any help and thinking about the hoops Tony is going to have to jump through for him is probably going to give him a panic attack, so he zones out. His eyes drift down the long line of boats and it's more than he's seen in the last three years combined, all in one place.  
  
He keeps telling himself that everything is okay as long as Tony is with him and he glances back over to the man. He really, really wants to reach out and wrap an arm around his waist, but they had talked about it and until they could get everything figured out, they were going to keep everything in public platonic. The comforting hand on his back is starting to burn a hole through him as he thinks about how much he wants to touch Tony, especially since he _can't_.  
  


* * *

  
  
Once they’ve caught up, they make their way to the car Rhodey’s got waiting just up past the docks, discussing how they’re going to go about getting Peter’s paperwork sorted. Tony sent Rhodey a message before they landed, specifically asking that he wait until they’re at the hotel with a little privacy to tell Peter whatever he’s found out about his aunt. Based on how confident Rhodey sounds, she must still be around. Tony’s relieved, he knows it’ll be emotional for Peter, but it was always going to be. This is better.  
  
Rhodey slides into the driver’s seat and Tony is touched that he’d truly not left anything to chance, privacy wise. He’s also more than a little grateful to be able to hold Peter a little closer under the guise of pointing out things about the city as they make their way to the hotel. He’s not actually certain Peter’s never been to L.A., but he does know he needs a little comfort.  
  
Eventually, the car comes to a stop around the side entrance of one of the more upscale hotels in the area, the type that makes the privacy of its guests a priority, and they head in the side door. He and Rhodey talk through the ride up the elevator, and he hasn’t missed any of his increasingly pointed looks at the way Tony’s hand has hardly left Peter since they arrived. He knows he’s blowing their cover, but Peter’s just so quiet, so clearly off, he can’t bring himself to care.  
  
When Rhodey leads them down the hall and Peter tenses up at the mention of separate rooms, Tony knows the jig is definitely up. He gives Rhodey a pleading look, and he has the good grace to just hand Tony both room keys and show them where he’s left them fresh clothes, toiletries, and cell phones. He’s pleased to see that Peter does, at least, look a little excited at the idea of a cell phone. It’s not too surprising, with how quickly he’d taken to FRIDAY.  
  
Rhodey promises to be back in a couple hours, once they’ve had the chance to rest up, bearing paperwork, and leaves them to it with one last, very pointed look that lets Tony know the minute he gets him alone, he owes him an explanation.  
  
Tony is itching to get his hands on the phone, but instead he pulls Peter close, tucking him under his chin.  
  
“How you doing, kid?”  
  


* * *

  
  
Peter enjoys the tour, mostly because Tony is pressed against his side as he leans toward the window to point out the interesting place. When they're on their way to the room, Tony is talking to his friend and Peter's not paying much attention until the other man mentions separate rooms and he can't help the way his head snaps up. He looks to Tony, who looks at Rhodey, who hands over both of the keys and Peter doesn't miss the intense stare between the two of them before the other man leaves.  
  
Once they're finally alone, Peter buries his face in Tony's chest, wrapping arms around him tightly in a way that hes sure is going to come off as cling and he hopes that Tony doesn't get sick of his constant need for comfort. He doesn't want to smother Tony, but he feels like he might float away if Tony lets go, like he's the only thing keeping Peter from losing it. Tony rubs soft circles across his back and Peter can feel his body relaxing into he touch. Peter takes a deep breath, inhaling the scent of the other man.  
  
“I'm okay.” It's not convincing, he knows it's not.. But Tony takes it at face value, tipping his head back for a quick kiss before asking if he's hungry. Peter considers lying just so Tony won't leave, but he hadn't eaten much earlier in the day because he was so anxious and now it's starting to catch up to him. Tony suggests he get some rest and promises he'll be back soon, leaving him alone.  
  
He strips his clothes off, folding the pants and placing them on the chair near the bed. Underneath the covers, he grips the shirt tightly. It smells like Tony and before he knows it, he's falling asleep.  
  


* * *

  
  
Tony feels a pang of guilt when he walks away from Peter, but he knows that Peter needs to sleep, they both need to eat, and he needs to talk to Rhodey. Whatever the news is about May, he wants to be the one to walk Peter through it. Not to mention, he’s pretty sure Rhodey has a question or two for him. A tiny bit of dread settles in the pit of his stomach, but it’s a feeling a lifetime of questionable decision making has left him more or less immune to.  
  
Tony makes his way down to the hotel restaurant and wishes he’d asked Peter what he actually wants and once he actually gets there he ends up ordering about nine different dishes, plus a few desserts, deciding it doesn’t matter. He can afford it and expensive food always comes in the smallest portions, anyways.  
  
He’s sitting in a comfortable lounge chair waiting for his food to be carted out to him when Rhodey drops into the seat next to him, he doesn’t bother looking over at him.  
  
“Tony.” It’s his ‘we need to talk’ voice and it always makes him feel like he’s back in university.  
  
“How’d the hunt for May go?” He does look over at Rhodey, this time, making no effort to hide his deflection. Rhodey allows it.  
  
“Good.” He sighs. “She hasn’t got his birth certificate, I guess that disappeared, but she’s got pictures of him growing up, going to school. His parents death certificates…” He trails off, Tony shakes his head.  
  
“He already knew. Suspected, at least.”  
  
“Right, well. It won’t be easy, but she’s got enough that we can get things figured out, for sure.”  
  
“She know he’s alive?”  
  
“I didn’t tell her, but she figured it out, yeah. She wants to see him.”  
  
Tony is both nervous and relieved. He’s happy for Peter, he is, he doesn’t want him to be without family, but he can’t help being anxious. Tony’s never been great with people, and their relationship doesn’t exactly look good, from the outside, he wonders what Peter will do if she has a problem with it. He meant it when he said he wouldn’t stand in Peter’s way or stop helping him if Peter decides he doesn’t want _this_ anymore, but he hopes it doesn’t come to that.  
  
What would _he_ even do?  
  
Speaking of which.  
  
“So, what the hell was that?”  
  
“What the hell was what.” Tony deflects, flippant. He’s not getting away with it this time, though.  
  
“You know damn well, what. I don’t think there was a second you didn’t have your hands on that kid since you got off the boat, Tony. And he thought you were going to share a room? Come on. How old is he? _Fifteen?”_ He’s lowered his voice and leaned in closer, speaking low and urgent, and Tony resents the guilt that claws it’s way up his chest.  
  
“He’s _seventeen_ , eighteen in November, and whatever you’re thinking, it’s not like that. We’re together.” Tony’s looking at Rhodes as he says it, and his voice comes out a little less firm and more imploring than he’d like. Rhodey’s eyebrows shoot up.  
  
“You’re _together_? You can’t be serious, Tony. You’ve known the kid- and please, pay attention to that word, _kid_ , what, all of two, three weeks? Is this a midlife crisis? It took you ten _years_ and who even knows how many near-death experiences to ask Pepper out-”  
  
“We’ve already had about five.” Tony interrupts idly.  
  
“You have- what?”  
  
“Five. Near-death experiences, between us. About.”  
  
For a second, Rhodey just stares at him, he thinks there’s a chance he’s about to get punched. Wouldn’t be the first time.  
  
“And you’re _definitely_ going to tell me about those, later. And see a damn doctor.”  
  
“No doctors.”  
  
“ _Tony-”_ Tony shakes his head and Rhodey slumps back into his chair. “You’re an asshole. You know that, right?”  
  
“I might’ve heard it said, once or twice.” Tony grins, just a little, before turning to face his friend fully. “Look, Rhodey. I know how this looks but just give Peter- give us a chance. It’s not a damn midlife crisis, and it’s not just shared trauma, or whatever you’re already thinking about. It’s real, I’m serious.”  
  
Rhodey laughs, bringing his hands up to cover his face, and before he can speak again, the hostess is wheeling over a stainless steel cart of covered plates. Rhodes looks amused.  
  
“If you’d just give us your room number, we’ll take this up for-”  
  
“No, no. I’ll take it myself, thanks.” He smiles graciously, pulling the cart away from her as he stands. “You know what, I think I left my wallet in my other pants. Rhodey, would you be so kind?” He tilts his head at his friend, Rhodey glares at him, but it feels like a little give.  
  
“Not at all. Asshole.” Of course, He still tips her generously as Tony makes his escape. Tony knows he hasn’t heard the last of… anything, really. But he thinks Rhodey’s willing to give them some time.  
  
When he gets the cart back into the room with minimal noise, Peter’s curled up in the bed, asleep. It makes his heart clench and he toes off his shoes, shedding his blazer and shirt and crawling into the bed to wrap his arms around him. He’ll wake him up in a few minutes, before the food gets cold, but for now he just savours the feeling of having Peter in his arms.  
  


* * *

  
  
When Peter starts to stir, the first thing he notices is Tony's warm chest against his back and the man's lips against his hair, whispering that there's food. He groans, cuddling the blankets tighter, leaning back against him until he smells the food Tony mentioned. It smells good enough that he pushes himself up onto his elbows, looking over to the ridiculously overfilled cart.  
  
Tony kisses his cheek quickly before crawling down toward the cart, uncovering and piling the plates across the covers where they can reach them without leaving the warmth of the bed, climbing back over to Peter when he's done. Peter sits up against the headboard, eyes wide as Tony reveals each plate and he thinks he _must_ have ordered the entire menu because there's a little bit of _everything_ , except seafood, which makes Peter laugh a little.  
  
His eyes stop as soon as they hit the cake. Gooey, triple-layered chocolate cake. Peter goes for that first and Tony makes a teasing face at him until peter elbows him.  
  
“Don't judge me. Do you know how long it's been since I've had chocolate?”  
  
He closes his eyes and moans as he devours the cake in only a few bites. He'd have to remember to ask Tony to buy him some chocolates that he can savor later. He licks the fork clean and sets the empty plate on the table by the bed before trying to decide what to eat next. Tony's started cutting a bite from a large, juicy steak and Peter's mouth must be watering because Tony just grins at him before bringing the fork up to his lips, offering him a bite.  
  
He smiles around the bite, enjoying the taste of a protein that isn't fish. As delicious as it is, he lets Tony enjoy his steak, pulling over a bowl of pasta. He slurps up a big, long string of noodles impatiently and Tony laughs as one of them hits him in the face. He looks over to Tony and sticks out his tongue as he wipes the sauce from his cheek, Tony teasingly asking if it's any good.  
  
“It's really good.” He nods. “Thank you.”  
  


* * *

  
  
Watching Peter’s eyes go wide as Tony moves plate after plate to the bed is more than worth the trouble. He can’t even help the look he pulls when Peter’s eyes land on the chocolate cake, he’s pretty sure his tongue is about to fall out of his head.  
  
The way he moans around it is another thing entirely. Tony’s just going to have to make sure he keeps chocolate on hand at all times. Not wanting to derail their meal when they’ve barely even started, he busies himself with a piece of steak that smells truly mouthwatering after weeks of nothing but fruit and fish. When Peter finishes Tony catches him eyeing his steak with a look not entirely unlike a dog near the dinner table and can’t help laughing just a little, but he cuts Peter a piece, even so.  
  
Peter closes his mouth around the fork with a sigh, eyes slipping shut as he savours the taste of the steak and- yeah, it looks like this might be a _thing_ for him, but he’ll come back to that another day. For now, he just considers how much he ate as a teenager and imagines how it must feel to have to go through most of that phase with what Peter had available, he really can’t blame Peter for reacting like this and so he lets him eat with very minimal teasing. Not quite no teasing, but not too much.  
  
By the time Tony finds himself full to bursting, Peter is just digging into a bowl of pasta, not looking like he intends to stop any time soon. He’s apparently abandoned any efforts to be vaguely civilized and is shovelling food into his mouth about as quick as he can manage. A noodle flies wildly out from his lips, where he’s sucking a mouthful down, and slaps across his face, leaving a spattered mess of sauce. It’s so ridiculous that Tony bursts out laughing, just laughing even harder when Peter sticks his tongue out at him with a smile, wiping off the sauce.  
  
“Any good?” He teases.  
  
“It’s really good.” Peter nods, sincere. “Thank you.” He looks so grateful, Tony really doesn’t deserve it. He leans over while Peter goes back to his food, running his hand over his hip and dropping a kiss to his neck.  
  
“You can have anything you want.” He says into Peter’s neck, hoping he knows how much he means it, before pulling back and letting himself collapse on the bed, struggling not to let himself fall into a food coma.  
  
“When we get back to New York I’m taking you shopping.” He declares. “Clothes, laptop, car-” It’s possible he’s getting a little carried away, but he doesn’t particularly care. He wants to spoil Peter rotten. “Whatever you want.”  
  


* * *

  
  
Peters appetite starts to fade as Tony starts talking about all of the things he's going to buy for him. He sets his fork down on the plate, his smile fading a little as he looks down to Tony on the bed.  
  
“You know I don't need all that stuff, right?” Peter knows that some things are unavoidable and he's accepted that. He's going to need clothes and even the phone that Rhodey gave him, but all of that other stuff.. He doesn't want Tony to think that he has to buy him things to make him happy.  
  
“I just want to be with you.” Peter leans down, resting his head on Tony's. “Is everything okay with your frie-” He corrects himself. “Rhodey?” The nickname feels almost too personal, but the man had insisted that Peter could call him by it, preferring it to his actual name.  
  


* * *

  
  
Tony brings up a hand to run through peter’s head, pressing a quick kiss to the corner of his mouth.  
  
“I know you don’t, but I love you, I want to spoil you. Let me, at least a little, okay?” About a quarter of a second later his brain catches up with his mouth, he’s… actually pretty pleased. It’s not the type of moment he wants to make a production out of, those rarely end well, for him, where personal relationships are concerned. He slips away from Peter and sits up, not giving him any chance to respond just yet.  
  
“Rhodey knows about us.” He reaches out to grab Peter’s hand. “He doesn’t love it, but he’s not angry.” Not at Peter, at least. “He also did me a favour, looked into your aunt while we were on our way. I’ve got some news, when you’re ready.” Tony crosses his fingers that Peter will, in fact, be ready now, as he can’t actually offer him much of a delay if he’s not.  
  


* * *

  
  
Peter freezes when he realizes what Tony just said to him, but before he can even think about what it means or how he feels about it, Tony is going on about Rhodey and then.. His aunt?  
  
He gave Tony her name, along with a bunch of other information, but he didn't really think about Tony trying to find her. Of course he would.. But what he found, he has no idea and he doesn't like the vague way Tony mentions it.  
  
His mind immediately goes to the worst case scenario and he's regretting his decision to not go back to be with her after his parents were taken. He takes a deep breath before nodding, not sure what he's going to do if Tony tells him that she's gone.  
  


* * *

  
  
“She’s still living in Queens, don’t think she’s moved since you left, still Forest Hills.” Tony searches Peter’s face, but he can’t quite decipher how Peter’s feeling, he suspects he may be a little overwhelmed, Tony’s throwing a lot at him, but he ploughs on. Best to get it all out now.  
  
“She wants to see you, when you’re ready.” He hopes that’ll be a balm for what comes next. “Rhodey asked her if she might have anything that could help us with the legal work, she’s been a big help, but… she has your parents death certificates. I’m sorry, Peter.”  
  
Tony shuffles closer, ready to be there however Peter might need. He knows he’d already guessed as much, but it’s one thing to assume and another to know.  
  


* * *

  
  
It's a lot to process when Tony tells him that May is still alive and living in Queens and that she wants to see him. Of course he's happy that she's alive and he wants to see her- He _really_ does, but how does he explain to her why he ran away instead of coming to her? When Tony mentions his parents death certificates, it doesn't hit him as hard as he expected.  
  
“It's okay. I already knew..” He leans into Tony's arms, his mind going a mile a minute. He feels like he should be more devastated, but really, he _did_ know. There was no way they were alive and he'd said his goodbyes and come to terms with it a long time ago. He mostly can't stop thinking about how May probably assumed he was dead too. He isn't sure he'll ever forgive himself for putting her through that.  
  
“When can I see her?”  
  


* * *

  
  
Tony lets Peter lean into him, wrapping his arms loosely around him and running a hand over his back. He’s taking all the news pretty well, a little nervous about his aunt, but really much better than Tony had feared. He shouldn’t have underestimated Peter, he knows how much he’s already gone through. He’s a lot tougher than he looks.  
  
  


“We fly into New York tomorrow morning, once we’re there you can see her whenever you’re ready. Just say the word and I’ll have a car ready to take you to Queens. You can even have Happy.” Peter looks up at him, questioning and momentarily distracted. “That’s my driver. He’s actually pretty grumpy. You’ll like him.”  
  
For a long moment, neither of them say much, Tony giving Peter a minute to process before he continues.  
  
“Rhodey will probably be here in about a half hour with the papers we’re going to have to start filing, if you’re feeling tired out I can handle most of it, just going to need your signature here and there. You up to it?”  
  


* * *

  
  
Hearing Tony talk about the plan calms Peter quite a bit. Just knowing that Tony is taking care of everything- Taking care of _him_ , makes it seem a little less scary. No matter what happens, Tony isn't going to make him do it alone. He doesn't think he _could_ do it alone.  
  
“I can help- I _want_ to help.” Peter nods, sitting up a little straighter before busying himself with stacking the mostly empty plates back onto the dining cart. As he's cleaning, he starts to think back to the beginning of the conversation and his heart starts to beat faster.  
  
“About what you said before..” He turns to face Tony, now incredibly aware that he's still completely naked, but feeling vulnerable for an entirely different reason. He climbs back onto the bed, kneeling in front of Tony. “I don't-” He stops himself when he sees Tony's face falling. “I've never felt like this before.. I- ” He doesn't know how to say what he feels and it's frustrating him. He takes a deep breath and tries again.  
  
“I think I love you too.”  
  


* * *

  
  
It stings, just a little, when he thinks for a moment that Peter is going to tell Tony he can’t feel the same. Or, maybe, that he feels pressured, uncomfortable about what Tony’s said, but that’s not where he goes at all.  
  
Tony pulls him close, into his lap, staving off any intent, just to have him in his arms so Peter knows he’s not upset. He brings a hand up to brush over his cheek and wrap around his nape while he speaks.  
  
“You don’t have to know, Peter, I didn’t expect you to. It’s okay. I didn’t say it so you’d say it back, alright? I just want you to know.” After everything that’s happened to them, to him, Tony’s learned that the people who are important to him should _know,_ before it’s too late.  
  
Not wanting to head down that particular train of thought, at the moment, he grins, leaning in to nip at Peter’s lips.  
  
“But, if you really feel bad, you can let me buy you a car. What do you think? Got a favourite colour? I bet I could make it hover.”  
  


* * *

  
As Tony's lips play with his, Peter has to remind himself that Rhodey is going to be there soon and he grins against Tony's smile. “Can you really even use a car in New York?” Peter mused.  
  
“What if you buy me chocolate instead?” When Tony teases that the two aren't really comparable, Peter adjusts his request. “A _lot_ of chocolate..?”  
  
Tony just laughs and somehow he knows that he's going to end up with a bunch of stuff he doesn't need, just to make Tony feel better. Whatever makes Tony happy..  
  
“I should get dressed..” Peter curls his lips and sticks his tongue out, expressing his dislike for the social construct of clothing.  
  


* * *

  
  
Privately, Tony considers legitimately building Peter a hover car, just to prove a point, he also briefly considers just buying Peter a chocolate factory, but he suspects that Peter might not be quite as amused by that as he would be.  
  
Peter pouts about having to put on clothes and Tony squeezes him tight, running his hands over his side and dropping his face into his neck with a groan.  
  
“Trust me, I’m more sad about it than you are.” He pulls back with a grin. “Once we get home, I promise you _never_ have to wear clothes. In fact, I’ll be a bit upset if you start.”  
  
He sighs, kisses Peter, careful not to let either of them get too excited, and shoves Peter so he falls back onto the bed when he gets up. It lets him get a mournful eye-full as he tracks down his own shirt. He can’t wait to see how Peter will look in _his_ bed. There’s something incredibly appealing about having him home.  
  


* * *

  
  
Peter falls back on the bed, a little startled because he's sure they don't have time to do anything and the look on Tony's face tells him he definitely wants to do things to Peter.. But then Tony moves off of the bed to dress himself and Peter takes a breath before doing the same.  
  
He considers putting Tony's clothes back on, feeling more comfortable in them because they're not too constricting, but Rhodey went out of his way to get clothing for Peter, so he should figures he should at least try it. Plus, he really wants to be on Rhodey's good side. Opening the closet, he sees a handful of different pieces of clothing, rifling through them, he realizes there are a few different sizes mixed in.  
  
Peter holds up a few items before settling on a simple navy blue t-shirt and a pair of black jeans. There are also a few different size of Converse at the bottom and it takes him a couple tries to find the right size. It's been so long since he's worn shoes, the feeling is so foreign. He slips them off, but sets them aside for the next morning when he actually _has_ to wear them. Looking at himself in the mirror, he thinks that he definitely looks older in fitting clothes, at the very least he looks his age, which he hopes both Tony and Rhodey appreciate.  
  
It's not long before Rhodey comes in with a thick folder full of papers, talking about a lot of legal stuff that Peter doesn't understand. He signs where they need him to and any time he makes a particularly confused face, they break it down for him and explain what it means. They both reassure him that while it may take time to get permanent documents, they don't foresee any problems and his temporary documents are already in order.  
  
When Rhodey leaves, Peter lets out a sigh of relief. He'd expected the man to be awkward or cold toward him since he didn't approve of his and Tony's relationship- If you could even call it that, but he actually kept it very professional and was supportive throughout.  
  
He takes no time at all to strip down once they're alone, folding the clothing and packing it away in the carry-on bag that had been left for him. Tony is still on the couch across the room, sliding the paperwork into the outer pocket of his own bag when Peter approaches him, waiting until he's pushed the bag away to position himself across Tony's lap, knees on either side of him.  
  
Tony smiles up at him, hands running up his sides as he makes a comment about Peter being insatiable and for some reason, it makes him feel a little insecure. He knows that he's already almost overly attached to Tony and that his constant need to be at the man's side is bound to eventually become bothersome. As much as he wants Tony- Wants to be with him- He wonders if that will end up pushing him away.  
  
“Do you want me to stop?” He asks, uncertain.  
  


* * *

  
  
Tony is proud of the way Peter keeps it together while Rhodey takes them through the legal work. He’d worried it’d be overwhelming, and maybe it is, a little, but Peter hardly lets it show. He’s also relieved by how good to him Rhodey has been, it’s not like he _really_ expected anything else, he’s a good man, almost to a fault, but some part of him had be a little nervous that he’d try and talk sense into Peter. By his definition.  
  
Either way, when the door closes behind him and Peter visibly relaxes, Tony feels something loosen in his own chest, as well. He’s distracted himself with organizing and putting away the paperwork that he doesn’t even catch Peter stripping out of his clothes, eyes cast downward at the papers in his hands. When he looks up, Peter is there, crawling into his lap.  
  
“Jesus, kid. You’re insatiable. I can hardly keep up.” He says through a smile, running his hands up the smooth length of Peter’s sides, he doesn’t miss the way Peter’s face falls and he wonders what he did.  
  
“Do you want me to stop?” Tony knows he must look like an idiot, but his jaw is hanging open, because _what?_ He’s not sure how Peter got the impression that Tony would ever want him to stop, but he knows how to fix it.  
  
“Peter.” He says, letting the desire he’s felt all day seep into his voice. “I _literally never_ want you to stop. It’s not- I don’t mean that this is all I want from you, but I mean it when I say that I don’t think you understand what you do to me.” He tugs Peter down further into his lap so their hips are flush, Tony’s not quite hard, but he’s well on the way and he knows Peter can feel it.  
  
“You want me to try and show you?” He means it to come out mostly teasing, because as if he could do anything else, now. But it comes off a little more desperate, more genuine than he intends.  
  


* * *

  
  
Tony seems genuinely surprised that Peter asked if he wants to stop and he suddenly feels a little silly for misreading the situation. When Tony asks if he should show Peter how much he wants to continue, all he can do is nod stupidly, wanting nothing more than undeniable proof that Tony wants him.  
  
Tony tugs his hips forward and Peter can feel him growing harder in his pants, the smooth silk dragging across his skin. Peter takes the hint and begins to roll his hips front to back, closing his eyes as he remembers how good it felt to ride Tony on the boat, the man stretching him open. The next time they were together, even as Tony patiently opened him with his mouth and fingers, he still felt the sting.  
  
One of Tony's hands comes up to the side of his neck, guiding him forward until his mouth is on Peter's throat and he jumps when Tony bites down, followed by his tongue, soothing over the surface of the tender skin. His lips move down, just below his collar bone and Peter should have expected the second bite, still he gasped.  
  
Tony's marking him, making it impossible for Peter to ignore how much he's wanted and the thought that he'll be able to see Tony's teeth marks on his body tomorrow makes him shiver. He reaches his hands down between them, moving his hips back just far enough to peel open Tony's fly, fingers sliding into his briefs, wrapping around him, stroking.  
  
“Tell me how much you want me..?” Peter begs, dropping his head down, taking the scent of Tony in as his nose brushes against his hair. He feels a little pathetic, but he wants more than to just see it and feel it, he wants to hear it, to be able to play the words over in his mind any time he starts to doubt himself.  
  


* * *

  
  
Peter wraps a hand around him and he buries his face in his neck, teeth grazing over the sensitive skin skin there with a groan as he thrusts up into Peter’s hands, just slightly.  
  
“I want you so damn much, it’s making me miserable. Every second, since we got off the boat, I’ve just wanted to get my hands on you.” Tony wraps one arm around Peter’s waist to pull him in closer, using the other to wrap around both of their cocks, fingers overlapping with Peter’s as he brings them together with a shudder. The combined sensation of it with the expressions it draws out of Peter is unbelievably good.  
  
He sucks a mark into the base of Peter’s throat, knowing he shouldn’t be leaving it so high, where there’s a real risk someone might see it, but unable to stop himself. He _wants_ them to see.  
  
“I want to ruin you for everyone else. I want to fuck you so good that no one else can ever be enough, because no one else is ever going to be enough for me. Not after you.” He promises, sinking his teeth into Peter’s skin to make him cry out.  
  
“I never want anyone else to touch you. Never. You’re _mine_ and I want you to know it.” He speaks, voice gone low and rough against Peter’s skin, he tilts his head back so he can lean up to catch Peter’s lips in a bruising kiss as their strokes speed up, fisting tighter, frissons of pleasure flitting out across his body. “I want everyone to know it.”  
  
Peter’s making increasingly desperate noises, they sound painful, Tony suspects he’s not much better off. He keeps telling Peter how badly he wants him, _needs_ him and no one else, not ever again, until the wave of pleasure they’ve been riding crests. Peter loses himself first, and just the sight of him, the sound of him, is enough to send Tony over the edge right after, not letting go of Peter’s oversensitive cock as he strokes himself through it, getting off on the way it makes the younger boy squirm and whimper on his lap.  
  
Peter collapses against him and he brings his hands up to run the length of his back, slipping into his hair to push through it.  
  
“Believe me now?” He asks, again more sincere than he expects it to come out, but nowhere near minding.  
  


* * *

  
  
In bed, later that night, Tony's been a sleep for a while as Peter lays against his chest, listening to him breathe. His fingers push into his skin, still sore from Tony's teeth, as he thinks about everything the man said earlier. All of the things that Tony wants, Peter wants them too- He wants to belong to Tony, to never be touched by anyone else ever again.  
  
Tony has already shown him so much, done things to him, with him, that he never thought of, given him pleasure and a sense of being needed. He smiles against Tony's chest as he drifts off, a little less nervous about the next day than he had been.  
  
In the morning, when he wakes up, Tony already has breakfast laid out on the table and Peter fills up on waffles and strawberries before packing his toiletries in his bag, setting them by the door after Tony insists that someone will pick them up for them.  
  
When the board the plane and it's empty, Peter feels a little relieved. Tony sits next to him, holding his hand openly, smiling as he tells Peter that the small staff on the plane are paid well enough to be discreet. It's good because as the hours pass, his anxiety begins to creep back in. He keeps telling himself that Tony is with him, he's going to get to see May again and as long as he stays away from the ocean, no one will find out about him.  
  
Everything's going to be all right.  
  


* * *

  
  
They’re on the plane and Tony is finally, finally starting to feel grounded. Ironic.  
  
He knows Peter’s nervous, how could he not be? He’s not too worried, though, Peter will love New York, he’s sure of it. He’ll _make_ sure of it. After yesterday he’s realized that Peter has probably been harbouring more nerves than he fully grasped, and he’s resolved to be more attentive to him, especially as their lives are about to pick up speed a hell of a lot.  
  
Speaking of which, he’s already got a mental list of things he’s going to need to get done once they touch down. Peter is still his priority, he’d meant everything he said, but he’s still got plenty else he needs to take care of. Both Avengers wise- whatever’s left of them, that is- and for Stark Industries.  
  
He’ll have to meet with Pepper soon, very soon, to get things in order. Not to mention, he has a feeling she’s gunning to check in on him since Rhodey has no doubt told her what happened. Old habits die hard. She’ll always be a good friend. Still, he wonders if he should warn Peter that they used to be together. How much is he even planning to tell her? Only as much as Peter allows, of course, but he wonders if Rhodey knowing has made him more or less comfortable with others finding out.  
  
Speaking of which, soon, Peter will have a family again. Tony loves him, wants him to have that, sincerely, but he’s almost embarrassingly apprehensive of what she’ll think of him, when she understands what’s going on. Based on what Rhodey said about her figuring out that Peter’s alive, it won’t take her much.  
  
The journey to New York is spent in relative silence, both he and peter lost in thought, but when they finally begin their descent and Tony pulls Peter close so they can watch the skyline appear in the distance, his mind quiets. Not entirely, but enough. He’s _home._ He’s home and Peter is here, he can finally, truly feel like he can keep him safe and he feels immensely relieved from stress he didn’t even realize he was still carrying.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so we may have gotten a bit carried away with this chapter (25k O_O) but we hope you guys enjoy it!
> 
> Birdie is writing Pepper and Stigs is writing May, just FYI.

As they pull up to the tower, it starts to sink in that Tony is not only Iron Man, but he's rich. He'd told Peter about his company and he knew that Tony had money, he had to to have such a nice boat and the resources to help him, but he hadn't realized _just how much money_ that really entailed until they're walking through the giant, open lounge.  
  
According to Tony, he'd already sent Peter's picture- The same one from his ID- To his team, so they all know his name when they're greeted and it's actually kind of nice.. Tony has so many people around him that keep him safe and take care of him and it's their job to take care of Peter as well. In the elevator, Tony presses a button at the very top and Peter watches the number tick higher and higher before the doors finally open, Peter is immediately struck by the view. The entire far wall is glass and his jaw drops open as he walks toward it, tugging Tony behind him.  
  
“Welcome home, Peter.” A familiar voice greets him and he smiles, glancing back at Tony as he greets the A.I. When he gets to the glass, he rests one hand on it, the other still holding Tony's hand as he stares out over the city. He'd been so nervous, but now that he's here, it's already starting to feel like home.  


* * *

  
  
Tony is a showoff by nature, he knows this, and he won’t deny that it’s more than a little fun to see the way Peter’s eyes go wide as he takes in everything around them when they enter the tower and head up to the penthouse. He looks genuinely happy to hear FRIDAY’s voice.  


They reach their floor and the elevator doors open to the living room area, sprawling, open and modern almost to a fault. Right off the bat, peter seems most enamoured with the floor to ceiling windows that line the wall, going over to them right away to stare out at the city. Coming up behind him with a grin on his face, Tony wraps his arms around him and hooks his chin over his shoulder. It feels as good as he’d thought it would, having Peter home, finally. Like he can let out a breath he’s been holding since the storm. His suit is back at his fingertips, he’s got his security, his money, now when he says he wants to protect Peter he can actually do it.  


“What do you think?” He asks, pressing a chaste kiss to the underside of Peter’s jaw. He’s already wondering when is too soon to take Peter shopping. He knows people will see them, talk, but in the face of finally having Peter here with him, it hardly seems like it matters. People will always talk, can’t they at least make it worth it? He’d already had someone bring up a new cellphone and laptop for Peter, he hasn’t noticed them yet but they’re on the living room table behind them. The phone Rhodey had picked up for him was nice, but it wasn’t Stark nice.  


* * *

  
  
“It's.. Amazing.” Peter almost doesn't have words for it. The sun is just starting to slip below the tops of the buildings, turning the sky red and purple. It's so different from the view he's used to, but something about it is so familiar, it makes him feel even more comfortable.  
  
“Do I get a tour?” Peter smiles, placing a small kiss on Tony's cheek and the man takes his hand, leading him from the living area to the kitchen, knowing that constant access to food is going to be one of Peter's favorite things. Apparently he can just tell Friday if he wants something and she'll add it to the list to be delivered. Peter's imagination started to run wild with all of the possibilities, things he hasn't eaten in so long.. From there, Tony takes him to the other side of the living area, to the bedroom, clearly having a good idea of Peter's priorities. Like the rest of the place, it's open and spacious and Peter's grateful for that.  
  
He's used to having the entire ocean and island all to himself and being in small places can make him feel a little claustrophobic. He's surprised that he did so well on the boat, giving the credit to the.. Distraction that Tony provided him. The closet is huge, pretty much the size of another bedroom and Tony tells him he can't wait to buy Peter clothes to fill his half. The bathroom is almost as large as the bedroom, a huge stone stall on the far wall, with a deep, luxurious looking tub off to the side and he really wants to soak in a hot bubble bath with Tony.. As much fun as it sounds like, when Tony tells him it's time for dinner, he decides they can do that later.  


* * *

  
  
Tony gives Peter a tour of the apartment, watching his face light up as they go. A significant part of him would like to start christening their new life right this second, strip Peter down and throw him over the nearest available surface, he’s pretty sure Peter would let him, but he knows that once they get started they aren’t stopping and he kind of wants to make an evening of it.  
  
Take Peter to a nice restaurant, the type that only makes an exception for dinners without reservations if you’re willing to pay a truly exorbitant fee, that won’t look twice at who Tony is with or whether Peter has a glass or two of wine so long as he’s wealthy enough for the both of them to be there, which he most certainly is. He knows Peter isn’t naturally inclined towards luxury as Tony tends to be, but just one night, while they’re about to start their new life together, Tony wants to make him feel like royalty. He wants him to feel like he’s worth everything Tony has to offer and more, because truly, he is.  
  
He gives Peter a set of nicer clothes that he’d had brought to the apartment in his size, visibly expensive but low key, simple. Something that will make sure he doesn’t feel out of place but will still be comfortable to wear, he hopes he’s chosen well. He certainly looks stunning in them, there’s something viscerally unsettling in the best of ways about seeing Peter in clothes Tony practically dressed him in himself. He suddenly misses the stupid Iron Man t-shirt from the boat, wondering how strange it would be to ask him to wear another shirt with Iron Man on it while he fucks him.  
  
Probably a little weird, but he’s pretty sure Peter would be into it. He’s pretty sure Peter will be into a lot of the things he has to show him, now that they’ve got the resources. He very specifically does not let his mind wander on to the box of chocolates waiting in the fridge as he is aiming to actually make it out of the apartment.  
  
Happy brings the car around and Tony introduces him to Peter. Happy is, predictably, grumpy as ever, but Tony can tell he likes him. He spends the ride complaining about the traffic as he covertly mentions his favourite landmarks as they pass them, Peter seems to love it.  
  
Once they’re at the restaurant, Tony guides a wide-eyed Peter in and to their table with a hand on the small of his back. Nothing too obvious, but he’s feeling a little bold, not entirely willing to stop touching him at the moment. Once they’re seated and the server has given them their sleek menus, everything in French and no prices, and left them on their own, Tony grins across the table.  
  
“If you’re not sure what to order, just get anything. We can keep trying until we find something you like, but it’s all amazing. I promise. Believe it or not I’m actually a pretty picky eater.”  


* * *

  
  
Peter's not a big fan of clothing, but when he puts on the outfit that Tony picked for him, it feels nice. The materials are clearly a higher quality and the fit is better, making it more comfortable, even though the backside is a little snug. He sees Tony watching him look at himself in the mirror, licking his lips and he thinks about bending over, stretching the fabric to its limit, just to tease Tony, but the way he talked about the restaurant, Peter's actually excited to go.  
  
When they sit down, a bottle of wine is brought to the table immediately and Peter has to assume that they know Tony's preference. Given the familiarity with the staff and comfort with which he leads Peter through the restaurant he'd guess Tony comes here fairly often. He's a little surprised when they pour him a glass as well, but Tony nods, letting him know it's okay, so he takes a small sip. It's not something he's used to, but it's not bad at all.”  
  
Looking at the menu, Peter scans across the items, trying to decide. He takes Tony's advice to order several items and settles on the three-course meal. When the waiter comes by, he looks to Peter first and he hands over the menu down before speaking.  
  
“Je vais commencer par la Langoustine, ensuite, je vais avoir l'ormeaux. Je vais finir avec l'agneu.” The waiter nods with a smile and it takes Tony a moment of staring at Peter before he blinks, refocusing on his own order. Once the waiter is gone, Peter grins at him. ''Did you forget all those years I spent in Europe- Well, off the coast..''  
  
He knows that Tony doesn't think he's stupid, but there's something immensely rewarding about the look of wonder on Tony's face, like he's proud of Peter for defying his expectations, because honestly he knows that Tony doesn't know what to expect from him. He can't wait to show the man what he's capable of..  


* * *

  
  
As he always does, Peter proves himself to be everything Tony thinks he is and more. He has a feeling that’s not something that’s going to stop happening any time soon, or likely ever, and he definitely loves it. When the waiter leaves, he leans in to let him know just that.  
  
“Tu es incroyable, tu le sais?” He realizes that for now the priority is staying in New York, getting settled and letting Peter adjust, but if ever there was a good excuse to whisk Peter away on a little European excursion, or two, or several, this is it. He wants to discover just how many languages he’s picked up, see everything he’s capable of. Maybe he’d even be willing to show him where he stayed with his family, the few times they did come near land.  
  
They don’t talk about anything particularly heavy, both feeling fairly easy about being swept away by the atmosphere of the night. Tony isn’t entirely sure if the flush on Peter’s face is from being generally pleased, and maybe a little embarrassed, or because he’s just a little tipsy, but he loves it, either way. Wants to get Peter home and make him blush all over.  
  
By the time they make it through deserts, during which Peter makes relatively quiet but still distinctly obscene noises that only make Tony even more anxious to get him home, he’s feeling uncharacteristically optimistic about his life. Having Peter in it, with what he’s gone through, and seeing him here now, the way he is, it’s hard not to feel like things are headed in a good direction for both of them.  
  
On their way back down to the car, Tony _knows_ he’s standing too close, hand a little too low, a little too tight, on Peter, but he’s filled with pleasant warmth and want and it makes him reckless. They aren’t swarmed, thanks to the strict property line, but a flash goes off in the distance and Tony can’t help tensing up, inside and out. They duck into the car and he does his best to shake the feeling off. Whatever is done is done, they’re just leaving a restaurant, he can deal with the fall out tomorrow. He doesn’t want to let it ruin what has been an otherwise wonderful evening.  


* * *

  
  
Everything is a little fancier than he's used to, but the conversation with Tony is easy and light and he finds himself relaxing into it as the night goes on. Peter finishes his glass of wine throughout the course of a meal, leaving the rest of the bottle to Tony. A second glass comes paired with his dessert and it's a lot more to Peter's tastes, light and fruity to match the sweetness of the dish.  
  
He feels happy as they make their way out of the restaurant and to the car, the warmth of Tony's hand couple with the alcohol settling within him and he almost misses the way that Tony's stance seems to change as he picks up the pace, opening the door with a little unnecessary haste. Inside the car, Tony smiles at him, leaning down to place a quick kiss to his temple and Peter decides not to question it. If something were wrong, Tony would tell him.  
  
It's incredibly difficult to keep his hands to himself, knowing that Happy is just a few feet away, though the little window between them is closed and heavily tinted. He finds himself staring at the window as a distraction, not realizing they've stopped until Tony's hand is patting his leg, getting his attention.  
  
When the elevator doors close, Peter wastes no time pulling his shirt over his head, kicking his shoes off before turning to see Tony watching him. He smiles, taking his bottom lip between his teeth as he drags the zipper of his pants down excruciatingly slowly as he takes short steps backward.  
  
''Come take a bath with me..''  


* * *

  
  
Between the lip caught in his teeth and the hand slowly dragging down the zipper of his pants, Tony’s not sure where to look, not sure where to touch, he wants to get his hands all over Peter. Just as he steps forward to do just that, Peter steps back.  
  
“Come take a bath with me…”  
  
He doesn’t need Peter to ask twice. He follows him, tossing off his jacket and wrestling off his shirt as quick as he can manage, crowding up behind Peter as they reach the threshold of the bathroom when the younger boy pauses to drop his trousers to the ground. Tony leans in to mouth at his neck, running his hands down over hips and around to rub at him though his briefs, one hand toying with the waistband.  
  
Peter melts back against him and he only stays a moment longer, wary of getting carried away before the bath is even run, before pushing Peter towards the indecently sized tub with a pinch to his perfect ass and a snap of his elastic waistband. He grins at Peter as he works his own trousers open.  
  
“Get the water going, what are you waiting for?”  


* * *

  
  
Tony all but chases him into the bathroom, snapping his underwear and pinching his ass and Peter lets out a laugh on his way to the tub. He sits on the edge of the stairs leading up to the bathtub, turning the knobs until it's flowing, slowly filling the tub as he looks out the windows, over the city. As much as he'll miss seeing the stars every night, the glistening lights of the city at night are just as beautiful and he thinks if there ever was a decent substitute, this is it.  
  
He slips off his underwear and socks, rummaging around on a small wooden tray next to the tub until he finds a body soap that looks thick enough to lather well, dumping a generous amount into the water. Peter smiles as the bubbles start to build and he settles down into the hot water, waiting for Tony, watching as he comes back from the other room with a familiar little bottle in hand.  
  
Peter sits with his elbows on the edge of the tub, beckoning Tony over to join him, enjoying the view as he does. When Tony slips into the water, Peter spreads his knees to make room for the man as he drapes himself over Peter, leaning him against the back of the tub.  
  
As much as he loves Tony taking the lead, he's been wanting to get his lips on him all day, ducking his head to the side with a grin, avoiding Tony's kiss in favor of attaching his lips to his throat. His hand grips the other side of Tony's neck, pulling him in as he takes the skin between his teeth, tasting it with his tongue. When he was getting dressed earlier, he hadn't missed the purple bruise that Tony left on his neck and now it's his turn..  
  
Tony groans against his cheek and it only makes him want to do more as a hand runs up and down his leg, the other holding the man upright against the edge of the tub. He seems perfectly happy to let Peter set the pace, keeping still as Peter lets go of his skin with a 'pop', tongue lingering against his skin as he pulls back to admire the color already blooming against his tanned skin.  
  
''Now we're even.'' He teases as he runs a finger over the hickey.  


* * *

  
  
Tony doesn’t waste any time getting naked, nearly tripping over his pants as he makes his way to the vanity in search of lube, eager to get back to Peter, mind full of all the wonderfully dirty things he’s going to do to him. When he gets back Peter is already settled in the water, leaning happily against the edge of it and eyeing him up in a way that makes it impossible not to show off, just a little.  
  
When he steps down into the tub, Peter leans back to open his legs for Tony and he sinks into them with a groan, sliding his hands up Peter’s thighs and wondering for the hundredth time of the night how the hell he got so lucky. Peter’s warm, wet skin against his own sends waves of warm pleasure skittering across his skin everywhere they touch, settling heavy in his gut.  
  
He ducks in to kiss him but Peter slips his head to the side with a grin, latching onto Tony’s neck and- oh, god, sucking and biting, hand holding him close. It’s just the right side of painful, and Peter isn’t applying much of his considerable strength, but just enough that Tony is _aware_. It’s strange, he’s rarely been the weaker partner in any dynamic, certainly never less powerful, but there’s _definitely_ something that gets to him in the best of ways about being reminded of Peter’s strength.  
  
It’s not uncommon for him to be expected to take the lead, and he does absolutely _love_ being the one to pull Peter apart and leave him begging, but this is something he could definitely get used to, also. He doubts there’s really anything Peter could do that he’d say no to, if he’s being honest with himself.  
  
The sensations of Peter’s tongue and teeth in his neck combined with the languid heat of their skin blending together have Tony’s cock throbbing, slowly hardening up against Peter’s own where he’s grinding up lazily against him. By the time he pulls off with one last, sharp suck and a little, soothing lick, they’re both already most of the way hard, but Tony has no plans to rush this.  
  
Leaning in to kiss Peter, slow and messy and just the right type of filthy to draw out, both without urgency but full of intent, Tony slides his hands up Peter’s thighs to grip his ass, then running over his waist and back down again, feeling all of him he can get his hands on.  
  
He brings one hand around his hip, running his fingers over Peter’s lower abdomen, just above his groin with a careful amount of pressure, and dips his head forward, mouthing at Peter’s jaw. “Tell me what you want,” He switches sides, dipping down to Peter’s neck. “I just want to see you desperate, I’ll give you anything you need, baby.” He grins into his skin. “Don’t be afraid to be bossy, I know you’ve got it in you.” He nips at his skin playfully as he says it, shivering at the way Peter reacts, always so damn sensitive.  
  
The simple, ridiculous truth of it, is that as much as he wants to wreck Peter, nothing gets _him_ off more than getting Peter off, he wants to make it the best he can be for him, tonight. Always.  


* * *

  
  
God, Peter doesn't know _what_ he wants, he just wants Tony, any way he can get him. His hands, his mouth, his cock. All of it, anywhere, doing anything. But..  
  
“I..” Peter's cheeks turn red as he thinks back to their first time together. “I liked it when-” He inhales sharply as Tony's thumb brushes his cock. “When you licked me open..”  
  
He can feel Tony's grin against his jaw as the hands on his hips twist him around until he's on his knees, ass exposed. Tony splashes away the soap suds before leaning in to kiss the dimples on his lower back, sending a shiver down his spine as Peter leans on his forearms at the edge of the tub. Tony's fingers dig into his skin, kneading and spreading him, hot breath ghosting over his exposed hole, teasing him in the most agonizing way.  
  
Peter pushes his hips back, desperate for any kind of contact, dropping his head down onto his arms, groaning when he finally feels Tony's tongue, flat and wide across him. His eyes flutter closed as he loses himself in the sensations. It's smooth and slick, but Tony's beard is scraping against his balls, making him twitch as he presses closer, sharpening his tongue to slip inside.  
  
It feels even better than he remembered as Tony tastes him and he's already getting so close when the man curls his tongue and sucks him in, trapping the tight ring of muscles between his lips and tongue. Tony's hand reaches around the front of him and Peter's eyes roll back, ready to fuck into his fist, but when his hips move forward, Tony's grasp around the base of his dick holds firm and he whines.  
  
''What-'' He tries to thrust again, but gets nowhere. ''..What are you doing?''  


* * *

  
  
He gets Peter bent over against the edge of the tub and slowly runs his hands up slender thighs, delighting at the way goosebumps raise across Peter’s skin despite the heat of the bath. Leaning in close to sigh over Peter’s hole as he spreads him wide, want runs through him when Peter pushes back against him with a small, desperate noise.  
  
Tony doesn’t resist his impulse, leaning forward to drag his tongue over Peter, groaning into his ass at the sharp taste of him. It’s not objectively good, but it’s certainly Tony’s favourite. He presses in closer, desire making his heart pump a little faster, making him a little less patient in his need to get Peter to the edge, and starts pressing open mouthed kisses into Peter’s skin, prodding around Peter’s ring of muscle with his tongue, pushing just hard enough to feel the muscle give a tiny bit without actually slipping inside him.  
  
When Peter whines particularly desperate, he finally pushes his tongue inside of him, it almost hurts with how tight he is but the way Peter cries out makes his cock ache in a way that’s more than worth it. He slips a hand around Peter’s hips to work his already leaking cock and wonders if Peter can feel his grin against his skin as he fucks him with his tongue.  
  
He keeps going like that, head spinning with Peter’s noises and the pressure of his hips caught between pushing back for more and pushing forward into Tony’s fist. When they start to move erratically, just this side of frantic, Tony tightens his fingers around the base of Peter’s cock and lets himself chuckle into Peter’s skin when the boy whines.  
  
He pulls back far enough to press kisses into Peter’s tailbone.  
  
“Just trust me.” Peter sighs like he definitely does _not_ trust him in this moment, because Tony is clearly _torturing_ him, and Tony silently delights in this bit of agony. Peter is probably going to want to kill him by time the night is up, but he’s also definitely going to want to do this again, he knows it already.  
  
Eventually, once Peter seems to have cooled down enough that he can let go of him, Tony pushes him up onto the ledge of the tub and turns him around, spreading his legs and pushing them up as he tugs him forward. He drifts toward him so that he can put Peter’s legs over his shoulders and leans forward to grab the bottle of lube from behind Peter, pressing a wet kiss to the tip of his cock as he does, just to watch Peter squirm.  
  
He wets his fingers with the lube, not worrying about a mess, and leaves the bottle back on the ledge of the tub. He brings his hand over to rub over Peter’s entrance, fingers catching on the barely-stretched edge of him, and leans in with a grin, eyes on Peter, to lick a stripe up the underside of his cock as he pushes two fingers in as deep as they’ll go. When he crooks them just so as he sucks lightly at the head of Peter’s cock, the younger boy’s hand flies up to twist tight into his hair.  


* * *

  
  
Peter does trust Tony. He trusts him with his body and his secret and his life, but right now, the man is putting him through hell, gripping him tightly as he softens, mouth just too far away to feel his breath. Finally, Tony flips him over, sitting him on the edge of the tub, propping his legs over his shoulders and he tries his hardest to keep still as Tony kisses the tip of his semi-flaccid dick.  
  
The air around him is cool, but Tony's tongue running up the length of him as his fingers work their way inside has him on fire from the inside out. Tony's tongue is twisting and his lips are closing around him as Peter grips his hair tight, careful not to lose control of his strength and risk actually hurting Tony.  
  
Lost in the sensations, his mind wanders to all of the fun things he could do with his strength if he wanted to.. Next time Tony teases him, Peter could flip him, pin him.. His shoulders hunch forward as he thinks how hot it would be to have Tony completely at his mercy, begging Peter for release.  
  
Tony pulls back again and Peter whines as the man reaches for the lube, slicking himself up just out of the water, refusing to really touch him, once again. Part of him wants to just pull Tony back in. He knows he could do it, knows he's strong enough and Tony probably wouldn't even be upset with him, but he also knows that Tony knows what he's doing. Peter takes a deep breath, willing his body to settle down, knowing that Tony isn't going to touch him again until he does.  
  
Tony smiles at him, kissing the inside of his thigh as he shifts his body, tugging Peter back down into to tub until he can feel Tony pressed against him.  
  
''Wait..'' Peter breathes out and Tony pauses, looking up into his eyes. ''Um.. Should we be, you know.. Using protection?'' He swallows, not sure if it's a stupid question. ''I just.. On the boat, I thought maybe it was okay since you didn't have any, but now we're back and.. Should we?''  


* * *

  
  
Tony nearly laughs the second time he pulls away from Peter, his own cock is aching with need but the younger boy’s frustrated whine is exactly what he’s aiming for. He kneels up, appreciating the way Peter’s legs stay put, bending with his movements, and grabs the bottle of lube to slick himself up, very aware of Peter’s eyes trained on what his hands are doing.  
  
Once he’s finished, he settles back on his heels with a small, soothing kiss to the inside of Peter’s thigh and wraps his hands around his hips to slip him down the side of the tub, leaning forward to pin him to the edge of it. His cock slides up the crease of him and Tony pitches forward to groan into the skin of Peter’s neck as heavy pleasure rolls through his gut, before pulling back to line himself up properly.  
  
Before he can quite manage, Peter stops him.  
  
“Wait…” He looks nervous and Tony waits, this time he’s fairly certain nothing is wrong and he’s confused, wondering what Peter could possibly be so afraid to ask about at this point. “Um… Should we be, you know.. Using protection?” Oh. It’s not what Tony expected to hear, but the moment he hears it he feels like an asshole, because yeah, he’s really the one who should’ve thought of that. He’s the adult and he’s certainly the more experienced one of them. “I just… On the boat, I thought maybe it was okay since you didn’t have any, but now we’re back and… Should we?”  
  
Peter is babbling, clearly embarrassed, nervous of what he’ll say, and Tony pulls him in close to kiss him and stop the anxious chatter. When he pulls back, he brings a hand up to Peter’s neck.  
  
“I was clean last time I got tested, haven’t been with anyone else since, but that doesn’t mean something couldn’t have turned up afterwards. If you want me to get a condom, I will, okay? But, whatever you say,” Tony takes a deep breath, already able to imagine what Pepper and Rhodey will say when they find out he’s getting regular physicals after they’ve spent years pulling teeth to get him to see doctors. He’d meant it when he said he was going to be better, for Peter. “We should both get checked. Tomorrow, regularly.” He leans in to press a kiss to Peter’s lips again, he wants to apologize, but he doesn’t want Peter to feel bad for asking, he was right to.  


* * *

  
  
Peter believes Tony when he says he's okay, but he doesn't know about himself. It was a long time ago and he'd never noticed anything wrong, but he's also not an expert and he'd never forgive himself if he hurt Tony. Then again, with as much sex as they've had, the damage is most likely done and the feeling of nothing between them is one of Peter's favorite things about being with the man. Still..  
  
''We should.. Just until we're sure?'' He feels a little guilty as he says it, Tony immediately letting his legs down into the water, kissing him again before he stands. Tony didn't even think of condoms, he didn't keep them stocked on his boat, he obviously doesn't prefer to use them, but Tony's willing to make the exception for Peter.  
  
Because Tony loves him, he remembers suddenly and he sinks down, mouth below the bubble line, hiding his smile. He watches Tony wiping the lube from his dick before sliding on and adjusting the condom he grabbed from the vanity, imagining watching Tony jerking off. He's pretty sure he's been doing a goo job making Tony feel good, but he wants to see exactly how Tony likes it, how hard he squeezes, how fast he likes to stroke. Peter wants to learn to be perfect for Tony.  
  
Tony climbs back into the tub and Peter reaches out to grab the lube, squirting a generous amount on his hand before reaching out to slather it onto Tony's covered erection. He loves to look up at Tony from his knees and if he didn't have the condom on, Peter would be so tempted to take the man in his mouth and work him until he was just as eager as Peter. Then maybe he'd pull away, just because he's petty like that.  
  
But they're past that now and once he's ready, Tony kneels back down, this time only pulling one leg up over his shoulder, Peter wrapping the other around his waist as he props up on the ledge again. When Tony slowly slides inside, stretching and opening him up, Peter's eyes roll back and he drops his head to the edge of the tub with a moan.  
  
He can't really compare, but he's sure that Tony's dick is perfect. The length and the girth of it is just enough to fill him completely and when he pulls out, he can feel the flared tip hooking into his muscle, except that he can't..? The usual drag of Tony slipping out is smoother than normal and it still feels good, but he can't help but be reminded that there's something between them.  


* * *

  
  
Tony resolutely refuses to allow the pang of disappointment in him to gain any significant traction when Peter says he’d like to use a condom. It’s true that… Well, he hasn’t exactly been the most responsible in the past, but Peter is different. He lets the boy slip out of his arms, into the water, so he can get up to retrieve a condom from the vanity drawer, wiping himself off before sliding it on.  
  
He pumps his cock a few times as he makes his way back to Peter, enjoying the way his eyes linger, before stepping carefully into the water. Peter is already eager, reaching out to run slick hands over his sheathed cock, it’s enough to draw a moan from him. Peter’s looking up at him with a smile and Tony is half-tempted to pull him forward, get his mouth over his cock, but they’ve got bigger goals in mind.  
  
It takes a little while for Peter to work him back to full hardness with the dulled sensations, but when he finally drops back to his knees he doesn’t even have to prompt Peter to wrap a leg around his waist, grabbing the other to lift it over his shoulder as he pushes Peter up against the ledge of the tub again. He grips the bend of Peter’s hip and takes hold of his cock with his other hand, lining himself up and taking a deep breath, exhaling slow as he pushes his way past Peter’s tight ring of muscle.  
  
He immediately misses the feeling of Peter’s flesh, that extra modicum of heat and drag that the latex robs him of, but still, he can’t complain when Peter drops back with a moan as Tony finds a rhythm and begins fucking up into him properly. It’s easier to keep control than it has been, with him, and Tony is realizing that while this may not be quite the same as it always is, it’s definitely going to make it easier to drag out Peter’s agony a little more. The thought makes him grin, and he grabs his hips with both hands and begins thrusting into him harder and faster, not caring one bit about the mess they’re creating as water goes everywhere.  
  
Peter is shaking when Tony pulls out, and while his balls ache, Peter’s cry of protest makes him laugh as he reaches out to squeeze tight around the base of Peter’s cock. The younger boy looks like he’s either going to cry or murder him, or maybe, hopefully, beg, Tony’s eager mind suggests. When he finally lets go of Peter’s cock and pushes back into him, leaning over him to press his feet against the bottom of the tub and get a little more leverage, they’re both already panting and he can feel Peter’s legs trembling with the adrenaline of being brought to the edge so many times while his own burn from the strain of going on so long, knees aching.  


* * *

  
  
Peter's frustrated because it feels so good, but he can tell that Tony is holding back. For as enthusiastic as his pace is, and as much as he has Peter almost breaking the tub, he can feel it in the stiffness of Tony's body, in the way that he's quiet and focused, that the man isn't entirely present.  
  
When Tony pulls away, strangling his cock before he can come, he _almost_ just pulls the man back into him with the leg around his waist. He bucks his hips upward, needing some kind of friction, but Tony's got him tight and isn't letting go. He's so close.. He's **been** so close for so long and Tony keeps drawing him back from the edge and it's maddening, but the burning he feels inside tells him it's going to be worth it when Tony finally stops torturing him, if he ever does.  
  
He's leaking onto Tony's hand as he grips him and he swears he's going to start crying if Tony doesn't let him come soon, the tightness in his balls starting to ache with anticipation. When Tony pushes back into him, it's deep and god, it feels good, but he wants _more_. After just a few more rough thrusts, Peter stops him, knowing he's not going to last much longer, wanting it to be just as good for Tony as it is for him.  
  
''I can't-'' He takes a sharp breath, waiting for Tony to realize he's speaking. ''Stop, stop..'' He pushes Tony's hips with his hand until Tony's dropping his leg with a worried look on his face, pulling back completely. Peter pulls the man in for a searing kiss as he reaches down to hurriedly unroll the condom, freeing his cock. ''Sorry, I know I said-'' Peter explains around Tony's tongue. ''I just need to feel you.'' He strokes Tony long and slow. ''Need you to feel me..''  
  
Peter can almost see Tony's eyes darken with lust as he leans forward, Peter locking his legs around his waist, arms clinging around Tony's shoulders. When Tony reaches for the lube again, Peter pulls his hand back in and sinks himself down without warning, ripping a broken moan from the man.  
  
_That's_ what he needs, he thinks as he clenches down, rewarded with another desperate noise. His eyes roll back as they close and he starts to roll his hips, slowly, wanting Tony to feel everything. He can feel Tony's knees shaking and his fingernails are digging into his skin and it's just _so_ much better.  
  
When Tony drops his head to the crook of Peter's neck and whispers how good he feels, Peter knows he's close and as much as he wants to come, his need for payback is just _slightly_ stronger. He buries himself deep on Tony's lap, locks his ankles and just.. Stops.  


* * *

  
  
Peter telling him to stop is like a cold shock to his system, he pulls back as soon as he registers what the younger boy is saying, several apologies ready to spill form the tip of his tongue, but before he can speak Peter is reeling him in, kissing the the words from his mouth and pushing the worry from his mind as he reaches down to pull the condom off. He’s babbling about how he needs to feel Tony inside him as he strokes him, squeezing deliciously tight despite the torturously slow pace.  
  
Tony’s still recovering from the mental whiplash of everything when Peter pitches forward, he has enough presence of mind to reach for the lube but Peter snatches back his hand and sinks down onto his cock before he can get to it, and that’s pretty much game-over for Tony’s thought processing abilities.  
  
He moans into Peter’s mouth and his fingers claw urgently at the skin of Peter’s hips, digging in to try and grind up, savouring the raw feeling of Peter’s body pulling him in, warm and wet around him. Peter tightens around his cock and the pressure in his abdomen is almost unbearably hot, he groans into Peter’s mouth again and grips Peter’s hips so hard his knuckles ache from the force of it.  
  
Peter begins rocking back and forth on his cock, drawing Tony further towards the point of no return with every roll of his hips, and Tony’s entire body is vibrating with with the impossible need to be closer. He sinks forward, burying his face in Peter’s slender neck.  
  
“You’re the best thing I’ve ever felt.” He whispers into his skin as Peter rocks back into his hips. “Christ, I can’t believe you let me do this, still. Even after- _fuck._ I’m so close, baby. I can’t wait to come inside you.”  
  
Peter pushes himself down until Tony bottoms out entirely, and that’s when he _stops._ It takes a moment for Tony to even register what’s happened through the pleasure, that suddenly, Peter’s got him locked in a vice grip with his legs. He’s bewildered, then, momentarily, concerned, but that quickly dissipates when he realizes Peter is _giggling_ breathlessly into his neck. To his mortification, a whine slips past his lips without his consent.  
  
The breath leaves Tony in a desperate, gut-punched huff as he slumps forward, trying to find friction in grinding into Peter against the side of the tub, but there’s absolutely no give, he’s locked his legs and that’s that.  
  
“Christ, Peter. _Why?”_ He groans, pained. “You’re killing me. You- you little piece of shit, I can’t- fuck.” Peter just laughs harder and Tony groans again into his skin. “Fuck, I take it back. I didn’t mean it, please. Peter, baby, please, please move. You’re amazing, you’re perfect, _please_ move.” He realizes as he’s saying it that there’s no chance it sounds smooth, most likely just desperate, but he doesn’t care, at this point, he just _needs Peter to move.  
  
_ Peter keeps giggling, louder now, and as Tony’s hands flex against Peter’s skin he gets an idea. Biting down on Peter’s neck so his grin can’t give him away, he slips a hand down and presses his ring finger against Peter’s entrance until the muscle gives just enough for him to slip his finger in alongside his cock. Peter gasps and Tony crooks his finger, just a little, hoping that does the trick.  


* * *

  
  
Peter can't stop laughing as Tony tastes his own, agonizing medicine, begging Peter to move and if it weren't so funny, he'd be focusing on how insanely turned on he is by Tony _begging_ him. They're going to have to have fun with that later, for now he's just enjoying the sweetness of revenge.  
  
That is, until Tony reaches around him, biting his neck as he slides a finger alongside his cock and his body stutters and Peter's laughs turn into broken gasps. ''Oh, fuck..'' Peter keeps the grip around Tony tight, clenching his thighs as he curls his hips, slowly pulling up before pushing back down on Tony, feeling his finger slide out before it goes back in, Tony twisting and stretching him.  
  
He keeps his movements slow, not only because he's exhausted and he _knows_ Tony is too, but because the feeling is absolutely delicious. Tony's cock alone fills him to the brim, but his finger is taking him past his limit and now that he's there, he wants _more_. His mouth falls open, resting against Tony's ear as he moans and now it's his turn to beg for what he wants.  
  
''Another one.. Please, Tony..'' He mouths the side of Tony's neck as he rocks back and he can't keep his eyes open as Tony fingers him and fucks him all at once. ''Plea- Oh, god..''  


* * *

  
  
His idea works even better than intended. It’s still nearly impossible to move his own hips, but Peter is dragging himself slowly over the length of him, sinking down on both his cock and his finger, shivering all over. At this point, Tony is mostly going on a hope and a prayer that he doesn’t finish before Peter is done with him. When the younger boy moans into his ear and begs him for more, Tony swears he feels himself coming untethered, not entirely sure how he manages to hold out.  
  
When he edges his middle finger in to join his other finger and cock, Peter is stretched so tight around him that it’s genuinely painful, he knows his fingers will be bruised by morning and imagines it’ll be quite impossible to ignore, wondering idly if he can get Peter to suck them clean afterwards. He can only imagine how it must feel for Peter, who’s currently making small, breathless, pained noises into his neck. Clearly struggling, but so obviously full of want as he rocks back and forth with even more intensity.  
  
“Tell me how it feels.” Tony rasps out, somewhere between begging and demanding. He wants- _needs_ to know what this is doing to Peter. “Does it hurt?” He already knows the answer, but he wants to hear Peter say it. Wants him to acknowledge it.  
  
\---  
  
Peter's not sure how it's even physically possible for Tony to fit both fingers in him, but he does and every time Peter slides off of him, Tony curls them, raking his insides and yeah, it hurts.. But in a good way and Peter thinks there must be something wrong with that, but it just feels so right, he doesn't spare it another thought.  
  
''Feels like you're gonna break me..'' He bites into Tony's neck, his breath hitches as his legs lose their grip. Without his legs holding Tony back, he bucks his hips and Peter just holds on, mumbling and moaning into Tony's ear as he gets closer and closer. If Tony tries to stop him again, he swears to god he'll hold him down and ride him until he's finished..  
  
But he can feel it building, from his chest to his groin, his entire body is vibrating and when Tony's fingers leave him to reach around, stroking his cock hard and fast, he knows that they're not stopping again. Water is splashing, his body is covered in sweat, and he still feels like he's on fire as his orgasm rips through him.  
  
He's fairly certain the two of them are going to be bruised and sore tomorrow, but for a moment, when everything whites out, he feels perfect. He loves everything about being with Tony, knows that this is the only way he'll ever hurt him and even this, he loves. Knowing that he'll be able to feel him tomorrow and maybe the next day, bruises and little crescent shapes from his fingers, lingering.  


* * *

  
  
Peter tells him that he feels like he’s going to break and sinks his teeth into Tony’s neck as his legs finally, _finally_ , come loose. He immediately pushes up into Peter with a groan, running on instinct as he starts rutting up into him. He’s so close it hurts, he doesn’t remember the last time he was this desperate, and judging by the muddled, incoherent words Peter is moaning into his ear he’s not the only one.  
  
With only a little pang of regret, he slips his fingers out from Peter, sighing in mixed relief and loss when the stretch around his cock lessens, just slightly, losing the edge of pain from a moment ago. Reaching out to grab the edge of the tub behind Peter one hand and wrap the other around his cock, he pins him back against the wall of it and starts fucking into him for all he’s worth. It’s hell on his knees, his thighs are burning, he’s certain he’ll be bruised all over from the strength of Peter’s grip and a part of him looks forward to walking around with these aches all day, remembering how they got here.  
  
An even bigger part of him looks forward to watching _Peter_ walk around bruised and aching, reminding him of how beautifully worn out and desperate he’d been, stretched out the fullest he’s ever been. The image of it in his mind drives him to push just that little bit harder, faster, though it feels like it should be impossible he manages. Peter is half-moaning, half-sobbing into his ear, now, and he drops his head to groan into his neck. He knows he’s babbling, telling Peter how well he takes it, how amazing he is, and that it’s unlikely either of them are truly registering it.  
  
When he tightens his grip on Peter’s cock, that’s the end for both of them. Peter cries out sharply as his entire body goes tense, shaking, then limp with orgasm, dragging Tony over the edge. His own orgasm rocks through him with enough force to hurt, knocking the air out of him and lighting up his nerves to the point of near painful sensitivity as he grinds up into Peter, desperately riding out the last of his climax.  
  
Without slipping out of Peter, he carefully spins them around so that he can collapse back against the side of the tub with Peter slumped forward against his chest. There’s something inside him that’s not entirely ready to leave the younger boy’s body, and Peter seems in no hurry to make him, content to stay seated on his cock despite his obvious soreness. He brings his hands up to stroke over Peter’s thighs, back, through his hair, soothing whatever skin he can reach as he presses soft, wet kisses into his neck.  
  
“You’re just full of surprises, huh?” He teases gently.  


* * *

  
  
Peter smiles weakly against Tony's chin. “It's your fault..” He breathes a heavy sigh as he runs his fingers up Tony's sides. “You do this to me.” He kisses Tony's jaw. “I can't help myself with you.. I just want more.”  
  
Tony makes him feel _so_ good and it's been so long with Peter just by himself that his body is starting to crave the things Tony does to him. Then, he does these new things and it almost short circuits Peter's brain and body and he doesn't even know what he's doing, he just knows he needs _more_ and he knows that Tony will give it to him, so why not?  
  
He's spent too long with nothing and now that he has Tony, he never ever wants to let go. He doesn't care what Tony wants to buy him or do for him, as long as he stays, Peter will let the man buy him the world, even if he doesn't want it.  
  
When the time comes, Peter lifts himself up, both of them groaning as they separate before Peter tugs the plug out of the water, lying with Tony until it's almost empty. Despite the amount of soap and water, they're both far more dirty than when they got into the bath and Peter smiles, having an idea.  
  
“Friday, could you turn the shower on?” He's not sure, exactly, of her reach, but he has a feeling that Tony likes to have even the simplest things done for him, so he's not surprised when she complies.  
  
Reaching down, he wraps his arms around Tony's thighs and the man grips his shoulders as he stands, lifting Tony like he weighs nothing. He's exhausted, but relying on his strength makes it easy to carry Tony carefully out of the tub and over to the already-warm shower, setting Tony down under the relaxing spray.  
  
He can already see the bruises starting to form on Tony's upper body from where his hands had been digging in and he feels a little guilty that h might have been too rough, but Tony absolutely hadn't complained, so then again maybe not. Maybe he wants the reminder just as much a Peter does. He likes that idea- That Tony wants to be claimed by him. It makes him think back to his idea about pinning Tony down and he's never been on top during sex, but he wonders if Tony would want to try it..  
  
Not tonight, though. A short, lazy lather of soap is all they need now before drying and making their way to the bed. Peter almost mentions the mess they've made, but he's sure that it'll be taken care of by the time he wakes up, though he's not sure exactly how. Tony seems to have a way of taking care of things or having someone that can do it for him and while it makes Peter feel a little uncomfortable, there are times when it's beneficial and it might make him a hypocrite, but he's not going to complain when they bypass cleaning for cuddling, falling asleep in Tony's arms.  


* * *

  
  
When Tony wakes up, he has about thirty seconds of bliss. Peter is tucked into his side, warm and soft, and it’s easy to drop a kiss into his hair and linger there a moment, idly running through all the wonderful sounds he’d made last night, thinking already about when he can get him to make them again.  
  
Then he decides to move.  
  
He very quickly realizes that it’s going to be a _while_ before he does that again, because he feels not unlike he’s been hit by a car. Glancing down at Peter as he tries to roll some of the pain out of his shoulders without groaning too loud, he tells himself to put out some painkillers and water for Peter before he gets up, feeling bad about how much more painful this is bound to be for him when he wakes up.  
  
When he makes it to the bathroom mirror, his reasons for being sore become pretty clear. He’s got bruises so dark they’re nearly black where Peter’s heels had dug into his back, and little purple marks all across his back and arms from his hands. Even as he’s brushing his teeth, he can’t help grinning to himself as he realizes that yes, his fingers _are_ bruised. He definitely can’t pretend he’s sorry about that one, it was well worth it.  
  
Before he leaves Peter to sleep, he pulls on some sweats, leaving some out for Peter in case he wants them, though the apartment should be warm by the time he gets up, and leaves some painkillers and a bottle of water from the mini fridge out on the dresser.  
  
By the time he makes it to the kitchen, he’s decided to try his hand at pancakes. He can invent a new element (mostly) on his own, surely he can manage some eggs and flour, right? Besides, there’s always delivery if things go sideways. With a little digging, he finds everything he needs, along with some chocolate chips and fresh fruit, and silently pays thanks to whichever assistant, human or otherwise, he pays to keep his kitchen well stocked with food he never eats.  
  
Roughly twenty minutes later, the kitchen is a war-zone of flour, eggshells, and spilled milk. The smell of smoke is becoming vaguely more apparent.  
  
“FRIDAY! Turn on the fans, make sure the smell of smoke doesn’t reach the bedroom.” He’s already accepted that whatever he’d had planned, Peter definitely won’t be waking up to that, so he’ll settle for not having to assume the apartment is on fire first thing in the morning, instead. “And have some breakfast delivered, waffles, sausages, whatever they’ve got.”  
  
“ _Right away, Mr. Stark.”  
  
_ So, at this point it’s all about damage control. He gets to cleaning and he’s glad he did. About five minutes later the apartment is looking vaguely less disastrous when FRIDAY speaks.  
  
“ _Ms. Virginia Potts is on her way up to the apartment, Mr. Stark.”_ It’s at this moment that Tony realizes he probably should’ve called her when he got back, just to check in. She’s not going to like that he didn’t, oops.  
  
“How’s she seem.”  
  
“ _Quite irate, Mr. Stark.”_ Tony sighs.  
  
“Yeah, sounds about right.” He mutters to himself. A few seconds later the elevator pings and he does his best to look nonchalant while covered in… everything.  
  
He notices immediately that Pepper looks more angry than upset, which is unexpected but not entirely shocking, what’s more concerning is the way she’s brandishing her tablet like she’s ready to kill him with it.  
  
“What the hell is this?!” She demands, immediately, waving her tablet so that Tony can’t actually manage to focus in on what’s on the screen. She stops short a few sharp steps into the apartment.  
“And what the hell is _this_?” She asks, baffled, taking in the mess Tony has made of both the kitchen and himself, dropping her arms to the side.  
  
“Breakfast.” Tony shrugs. It must, somehow, be the wrong thing to say, because Pepper’s eyes to sharp again, and she walks over to Tony every bit of barely restrained anger from a moment ago flaring back up.  
  
“Breakfast? Breakfast for _who_?” And that’s _definitely_ unexpected.  
  
“Don’t tell me you’re jealous, Potts, I thought we agreed we’re better off-”  
  
“I’m not _jealous_ , Tony!” Pepper interrupts. “I’m mad because you’re an idiot! I thought you were done pulling these kinds of stunts?” Now, Tony is genuinely lost.  
  
“I’m confused, Pep. What stunt did I pull?” He’s not actually sure whether this is the wrong or right thing to say when Pepper wordlessly shoves the tablet at him, forcing him to grab it or let it fall. He looks down at it and- _oh_.  
  
Every salacious, shit-stirring gossip rag from New York to California has pictures of he and Peter leaving the restaurant, Tony’s hand low on Peter’s back and smiles on both their faces. Peter’s cheeks are visibly pink and that’s incriminating no matter which way you slice it, whether they attribute it to alcohol or something else, given how particularly young Peter looks in the lighting of the picture.  
  
He shrugs and hands the tablet back to Pepper, a mess where his hand had been.  
  
“So what? It was just dinner with an intern, he’s got potential, I wanted to treat the kid. You know how the tabloids spin this stuff.” She does, but, unfortunately she also knows him too well.  
  
“We both know that wasn’t just dinner.” She says sharply.  
  
“Come on-” He pleads.  
  
“Who’s the breakfast for, Tony?”  
  
“Pepper, seriously, it’s-”  
  
“Rhodey already told me, there’s no point in lying.” That stops Tony in his tracks. Rhodey already told her? How much? It stings to think about, he’d felt like Rhodey might be coming around. Willing to give them a chance.  
  
“Told you what?” Tony asks, sharper than he meant to. It doesn’t exactly bode well for his story.  


“He told me enough.” For a moment, Pepper seems to struggle with herself, and Tony can’t imagine what she’d bother to hold back, at this point.  
  
“He told me about the _kid_ -” She bites the word out and Tony can’t help wincing. “That you brought back from a deserted island, after you nearly died. _Again!_ ” And there’s the hurt creeping into her voice that Tony had expected to hear in the first place. They’re silent for a moment as she gathers herself. “You couldn’t even be bothered with a phone call to say you’re okay?” He forgets, sometimes, that Pepper has seen the worst of him, even more so than Rhodey or the Avengers. She’d been there for the nightmares, the episodes.  
  
“You knew I survived.” He offers weakly.  
  
“Knowing you survived and knowing you’re okay aren’t the same thing!” Her voice is angry, but wet, towards the end and neither of them speak again for a particularly strained beat.  
  
“I’m sorry, Pepper. I should’ve called.”  
  
“Yeah, you should’ve.” She sighs. “Tony, I know relationships, of any kind, aren’t easy for you, but we’re still friends. I’m not asking a lot, here. Just check in next time you almost die or I’ll finish the job myself, okay?” She demands. Tony swallows, she’s right, it’s not easy for him, but he knows he’s being let off easy.  
  
“I’ll try.” He promises, they both know him well enough to know that’s as good as it gets. “I just got caught up in-” He catches himself at the last moment, but realizes quickly that there’s not much left to hide, at this point. “Things. With Peter.” He finishes.  
  
“How old is he?” Tony flinches.  
  
“Seventeen.” To his sincere surprise, Pepper lets out a sigh that sounds relieved. Worn out, but relieved.  
  
“Well, at least it’s not illegal. You understand that this is still a phenomenally bad idea, right? They’re calling you a _pedophile_!”  
  
“They’re tabloids!” Tony protests, feeling angry for the first time since she arrived. “Who gives a shit what they say?! They’ve said worse before and they’ll do it again. It’s what they do. It doesn’t mean anything!”  
  
Pepper is gearing up to tear into- he’s not sure what, when FRIDAY interrupts them.  
“ _Mr. Stark, the food you ordered is on its way up.”_ There’s a tense moment of silence before they both take a step back, both physical and figurative, letting a little bit of the tension of the conversation drain away.  
  
“We’re not finished this conversation.” Pepper warns, gathering her things and making her way over to the elevator doors. Tony says nothing.  
  
“Tony.” She draws his attention, a little gentler this time. He looks up at her and the anger isn’t entirely gone from her expression, but there’s something softer, more sincere, in the lines of her eyes. “I’m glad you’re safe.” Something unclenches in his chest, just a little. It’s- Pepper doesn’t get it, he and Peter, but it still hurts to fight with her. He can count the number of people who genuinely care about him on one hand and it’s hard not to feel like they’ve already got one foot out the door when he fucks up, even when he knows it’s not true. The reassurance she’s offering may be small, but it helps.  
  
“Thanks, Pep.” He sighs.  
  
The elevator doors open and Pepper leaves while one of Tony’s robots deposits the heavy bag of food on the counter. He dismisses it and does his best to focus on the task at hand while he works on getting the food out on the counter, trying not to let Pepper’s angry words ring too loudly in his mind.  


* * *

When Peter starts to stir, he hears a little bit of a commotion from outside the door, blinking away the sleep as he sits up, stretching. He's slightly surprised to find that when he arches his back, lengthening his arms above his head, that there's not much soreness. He knows that Tony took the brunt of the damage from the force of his strength, but when he turns to look for the nail marks on his lower back, there's nothing. He was so sure they'd still be there..  
  
“I’m not jealous, Tony!” Peter stands as he hears the voices in the other room, louder now. “I’m mad because you’re an idiot! I thought you were done pulling these kinds of stunts?” It's a woman's voice, but he doesn't recognize it as anyone he's met yet.. He moves from the bed to lean against the door frame, listening.  
  
“I’m confused, Pep. What stunt did I pull?” Peter wonders the same thing. He's been with Tony since he got back and he hadn't done anything that he knows of.  
  
“So what? It was just dinner with an intern, he’s got potential, I wanted to treat the kid. You know how the tabloids spin this stuff.”  
  
Was Tony talking about him? Did someone see them at dinner? He keeps listening and before long he finds out that she knows. About him and Tony. And she does _not_ seem happy about it. They keep talking and the tone changes, Tony apologizing for not calling her to let her know he was safe, the woman sounding disappointed until she asks about Peter's age.  
  
“They're calling you a _pedophile_!” She almost yells and Peter's stomach turns. He knew that people wouldn't understand them, but they were really saying _that_.. He just wants to run out and hug Tony and tell him how much he loves him and that he doesn't care what they think, Peter knows he's nothing like what they're saying.  
  
When he hears her leaving, he waits a moment before walking out slowly, trying not to look like he was eavesdropping, but he's never been good at hiding his emotions and he can tell that the worry is clear on his face when Tony looks at him, sighing.  
  
“You heard that, huh?” Tony asks, shoulders a little slumped and Peter nods.  
  
Peter nods, walking up behind the man, eyes trailing across his colorful back, a pang of guilt hitting him as the man winces when his hand gently grazes the skin. “Sorry..” He mumbles into an untouched part of Tony's neck, his hands resting on his equally unblemished hips.  
  
At first, he doesn't know what to say. Tony knows how he feels about him and that Peter doesn't care if people don't understand them. They'd talked about it a lot on the boat and Peter was genuinely okay with people not accepting them. What he hates is that people are saying bad things about Tony, that he's a _pedophile_. Peter shivers at the idea that people think Tony is taking advantage of him, hurting him. If the bruises are any indication, it's _Peter_ that's hurting _Tony_..  
  
“I love you.” He settles on reminding Tony that he's not going to let other people change the way he feels about the other man, that he's not going anywhere.  


* * *

  
  
Peter slips out of the bedroom and something in Tony crumbles, just a little, at the look on his face. They’d been loud, of course he hadn’t slept through it, and now it looks like it’s weighing on _his_ shoulders which is exactly the last thing Tony wanted.  
  
“You heard that, huh?” Tony asks with a sigh, feeling more than a little defeated. Peter just nods, and Tony lets himself lean forward over the counter, head hanging between his shoulders as he tries to pull himself together. He doesn’t want to put this on Peter, but he doesn’t want to hide from him, either. It’s a difficult balance to find. Peter presses himself against his back and he winces when he accidentally presses into his bruises, but he doesn’t really mind, the feeling of Peter’s breath against his neck is soothing enough to make up for it.  
  
Peter tells him he loves him, and it’s sincere, vehement, but he can hear the sad, worrying edge in his voice so he turns, ignoring the aches as he pulls Peter in close against his chest, bringing a hand up to cup Peter’s jaw. For a moment, he just looks down at Peter, chest aching with the emotions clear on the boy’s face, then he pulls him forward to tuck him into his neck, pressing a kiss into his hair and resting his cheek there.  
  
“I love you, too.” He promises. “It really wasn’t as bad as it sounded.” It’s a lie, but not a big one. “It’s just gossip rags, no one that matters. Pepper will come around.” He presses another kiss to his hair and pulls back, pulling Peter in front of him so he can wrap is arms around his waist and pin him to the counter, facing the slightly excessive spread of breakfast foods, kissing his neck, where he’s surprised to find not a single bruise or bite. He hadn’t exactly been gentle.  
  
“I’d say I only ordered so much so you could get your strength back, but you don’t seem to need it.” Tony teases, an undercurrent of inquiry. “Not feeling sore? I know I woke up feeling like I’d gone six rounds with a Mack truck.” He snorts. When he feels Peter stiffen under him, just slightly, he realizes that might’ve been the wrong thing to say. He seems to be doing that a lot, this morning. He presses a particularly insistent kiss to the hollow under Peter’s jaw.  
  
“It was worth it, though. Seriously.”  


* * *

  
  
Peter loves when Tony kisses his hair, it's such a sweet, soft sign of affection and it warms his heart every time. When Tony turns them around, pinning Peter against the counter, he feels a different kind of warmth spreading through him as Tony kisses his neck.  
  
“I feel fine.” Peter chirps pleasantly, tilting his head back for Tony. “You _look_ like you got hit by a truck..” He runs a hand through Tony's hair, sighing.  
  
“We should eat..” If he gets much more excited, he's not going to be able to stop and Tony doesn't look like he'd survive another round with him so soon. “Once it feels a little better, I can make it up to you..?”  
  
Tony just hums in approval against his throat before pulling away, reaching behind him to grab a crispy strip of bacon, popping it into his mouth with a small grin.  
  
They eat at the built-in bar, each just pulling what they want from the spread onto their own plates, talking about plans for the day. Tony has a lot to catch up on now that he's back, what with a company to run and all and Peter wants to get back out into the city. He's sure it's mostly the same, but it's been so long it's practically all going to be new for him.  
  
The mood is much lighter and Peter laughs when Tony takes a big bite of a syrup-covered waffle piece, a thin string of the sticky liquid dripping down onto his lap. Before Tony can set his fork down and wipe it away, Peter is leaning over, pressing his tongue to the thin cotton covering Tony's thigh. He wets it, sucking the fabric into his mouth along with the top of Tony's skin.  
  
When he pulls back, he grins at Tony, licking his lips before turning back to his eggs like nothing had happened. Watching Tony adjust himself through the thin pants gives him a little bit of an ego boost, proud that it's so easy for Peter to rile him up.  


* * *

  
  
Peter takes in the havoc that has apparently been wrought on his body alone and promises to make it up to him later, it sends a delicious curl of heat through his abdomen and he doesn’t mind one bit. The image of Peter on his knees is almost enough to dissuade him from eating first, but he really does feel like he’s been through a meat grinder, so he forces himself to wait, reaching around Peter to grab a piece of bacon with a grin.  
  
Once they’ve started eating, he actually does manage to get his mind mostly out of the gutter. Peter, however, seems determined to drag it back, not that he puts up much of a fight when the younger boy leans down to mouth at the sensitive skin of his thigh through cotton, just _inches_ from his cock and he’s pretty sure he sets his fork down so hard he cracks his plate.  
  
He can still feel the warmth of Peter’s mouth when he pulls up with a grin, and he has to reach down to readjust himself where he’s gone slightly hard, unable to stop himself from giving his cock a brief squeeze, just a little relief. He’s becoming increasingly aware that Peter is, in fact, a _tease_ and that this is likely just going to get worse, he might as well accept it.  
  
It occurs to him, belatedly, that there doesn’t appear to be a single bruise on Peter’s body. Not when he bent over, not down his sides, not on his hips where Tony is certain he’d been close to drawing blood. It’s definitely… strange. It’s also impossible to dwell on for long, now that Peter has efficiently _distracted_ him. He makes it through the rest of the meal itching to get his hands on him, unable to stop picturing Peter on his knees. He wonders if Peter could get off just sucking his cock, he always seems to enjoy it enough. The thought makes him shiver with the need to find out.  
  
When Peter gets up to clear the dishes off the table, Tony grabs him, pulling him into his arms so he can kiss him before he pulls back with a grin.  
  
“I’ll get the dishes. First, I’ve got something for you.” He grins at Peter’s apparent surprise, sliding off the stool and away from Peter to grab a bag from the table by the elevator, walking back to hand it to Peter, leaning against the counter. “Then I believe you’ve got something for me?” He teases as Peter opens it.  


* * *

  
  
Everything about spending time with Tony feels _so_ right, having the man snatch the dish from his hands, pulling him into a kiss. It's like they're an old married couple that's been living together forever. It feels like a glimpse into their future and Peter loves where they are now, but at the same time, he can't wait to get _there_ as well- When he's older and people don't care that they're together. When they can just be with each other..  
  
Peter watches Tony grab the bag he hadn't noticed from next to the elevator, holding it out for him. He looks down to the bag and back up to Tony, a little surprised, though he's not sure why. Tony's been promising to buy him all sorts of things.  
  
With a small nod from Tony, he unzips it, pulling out the contents one by one. The bulk of it is a hoodie and an Iron Man shirt, which makes him smile as he glances back over to Tony before reaching back in to pull out a pair of Iron Man underwear, laughing. Tony's never going to let him live down his comments about how cool Iron Man is..

Moving on, he pulls out a new cell phone that's not as advanced as Tony's but is thinner and more sleek than the one Rhodey gave him and he recognizes the Stark logo. He runs his fingers over it before setting it down, taking out a compact digital camera. Tony takes a moment to show him that it can also record video if he wants to, teaching him how to switch between the two.  
  
Lastly, he pulls out a simple, black leather wallet and Tony tells him to open it. It's got his identification, just about every type of public transportation card you can imagine as well as business cards for Tony's contact people, presumably for in case he loses his phone. There's also a credit card.  
  
Peter looks up at him, a little unsure of what to say. Tony's given him everything he could need and he's gotten used to the idea of Tony buying things for him, but spending Tony's money for himself? He feels a little uneasy about it, so he hands it back.  
  
Tony refuses to take it, insisting that Peter should buy himself some clothes at the very least. He even tells Peter that all he has to do when he buys something is give them one of his cards and it will be sent over so he doesn't have to carry it around the city. Peter knows that he doesn't _have_ to use it if he doesn't want to, but Tony wants him to have it just in case, so he takes it back, sliding it into the wallet.  
  
He puts everything back, hoodie on top, leaving the other clothing out so that he can put it away later and he can feel Tony's eyes on him. He smiles as he sets the bag on the floor, moving to wrap his hands around Tony's neck, tugging him toward the couch.  
  
“Thank you.” He kisses him softly on the lips before gently guiding Tony to a sitting position, sinking to the floor, hands dragging down Tony's body as he goes.  
  
Peter nuzzles the front of his pants, his breath hot across Tony's crotch as he speaks and he can feel the man twitching to life, already half-hard from his teasing during breakfast. “I'm not sure if I should..” He let his fingers play with the hem of Tony's pants. “I mean, you should probably be resting..”  
  
Tony glares daggers down at him and though he laughs, he shows the man mercy, pulling the edge of his pants down to his knees as Tony lifts his hips and they fall to the floor. He fixes his eyes on Tony as he flattens his tongue, running it over the tip of his cock, leaving it glistening with spit.  
  
“Tony..?” He begins to ask a question, only to be met with a soft hum to let him know Tony is listening as he licks a slow stripe up the underside, thumb rubbing circles at the base. “Do you think.. You might ever want to..” He swirls his tongue around Tony's head, pulling back with his lips still resting against his skin while he speaks. “Try me being on top?”  


* * *

  
  
Peter tries to make him take back the credit card but Tony isn’t having it. Even if he didn’t want to spoil Peter like he does, the kid is going to need things, like it or not. Food, transportation, clothes, Peter’s been without _things_ for quite a while, and he’s never actually had them as an adult, Tony’s pretty sure he doesn’t actually realize how expensive it is to _be a person,_ especially in this city. This, he tells himself, completely justifies obscenely high limit on the card.  
  
Eventually Peter accepts, putting his things away. Tony can’t help watching him, he’s pretty sure he watches Peter enough that he probably should be weirded out, but Peter never seems to mind. It’s good, because Tony is especially incapable of looking away now, when he’s been full of barely restrained anticipation for the better part of the last hour.  
  
Peter tugs him towards the couch by the nape, kissing him softly as they go but not quite letting Tony get close enough to press against him before he’s pushing him down onto the couch, hands drifting down his body as he falls to his knees. When he leans in to nuzzle and mouth just a little at Tony’s cock, heat shoots through him and he’s _sure_ Peter must feel him twitch against his face. He’s so distracted he hardly registers Peter’s words, teasing him.  
  
He’s not sure what look he sends Peter, but if it’s anywhere near conveying the distress he feels at the thought of Peter _not_ getting him off as soon as possible, it’s no wonder it gets the job done. Peter laughs at him as he tugs his sweats off, but he stops when he leans in and drags his tongue over the head of his cock, grinning up at him the whole time.  
  
“Tony?” He asks casually, like he’s not killing him as he slips down to run his tongue over the length of him, thumb teasing at the base of him. “Do you think.. You might ever want to..” He trails off, pressing an opened mouth kiss to the head of his cock, and Tony already knows that Peter could ask for literally anything in existence right now and he would say yes. He pulls back so that his lips are just brushing over the sensitive, swollen tip of him as he speaks. “Try me being on top?” Tony could swear he’s batting his damn eyelashes when he says it.  
  
He laughs, but it morphs into a choked off moan when Peter leans forward to suck him into his mouth properly. It’s so warm, and so wet, and seeing Peter’s cheeks hollow around him as he slips past his stretched lips is enough that he’s proud of managing a coherent answer.  
  
“Yes, I definitely want to try that.” He swears. He’s not particularly sure whether Peter means he’d like to try topping from the bottom, so to speak, or whether he means he wants to fuck Tony, be inside him, but he doesn’t particularly care. “Peter, baby, I want whatever you’re willing to give me.” His hand slides up to pull at Peter’s hair, just a little, and the other comes up to cup his jaw, dragging his thumb over Peter’s stretched lips, feeling the slide of him sinking down over his cock.  
  
Peter hums in appreciation and pulls back with a smile to mouth over his cock, happy and messy, actually murmuring a “Thank you.” against the skin of him and Tony drops his head back with a groan, squeezing his eyes shut briefly, but bringing back to Peter quick, not willing to miss the sight of him for long. “You’re seriously going to kill me, kid. No one should look this happy sucking cock, I hope you know that.” He declares passionately. At least he’ll die happy.  


* * *

  
  
Of course Peter's happy. Tony just told him that one day, hopefully soon, he'd make Peter's fantasy come true. He knows that Tony has been with more people than him and he knows so much more than Peter does, but he wants to try _so_ badly to make Tony feel good.. He wants all of Tony in every way and the thought that Tony wants him the same way just makes him so happy he can't help but smile, even with his mouth full of Tony's dick.  
  
He swallows him down as far as he can, which is definitely further than the first time, still not quite all the way, but he makes up for it by swallowing. Tony's hips stutter and he curses as Peter's throat contracts against the tip of his cock and Peter can't wait until he can take Tony all the way and do that _around_ him..  
  
Peter uses his hands to tug Tony closer to the edge, spreading his legs wider open so that he can reach between them with both hands, thumbing the base of him while slowly rolling his balls in his hand. Tony's thighs are shaking on either side of his head and every time the man grabs his hair, his eyes get heavier until he closes them, completely losing himself in being surrounded by Tony- His taste, his scent, the heat of him on Peter's tongue as he moves.  
  
His own cock was hanging heavy between his legs, already dripping onto the floor without even being touched. Knowing that he was making Tony feel good was like an aphrodisiac, going straight to his head, making him dizzy. Every twitch of Tony in his mouth, every sigh and tug on his hair sent a jolt of pleasure through him and before long, he was moaning around Tony's dick, saliva dripping down onto his own thighs.  
  
Every now and again, Tony releases his grip to just pet his hair, praising him and even though half of it is unintelligible, it still fills Peter with pride. He doubles down his efforts, sitting up on his heels to change his angle, sinking back down until his nose is touching Tony's stomach and the hands in his hair tighten, holding him in place as he feels Tony's balls tightening in his hands.  


* * *

  
  
The thing is, Peter keeps trying to get Tony’s cock further down his throat and it doesn’t feel like he’s doing it just for the sake of it, it feels like he’s doing it because he _wants_ it, and while Tony’s certain he’s had more than his fair share of sex that was enjoyed all around, he’s not at all certain that anyone has ever sincerely, intensely _enjoyed_ having his dick in their mouth as much as Peter seems to enjoy his. He’d be hard pressed to believe that anyone has ever enjoyed sucking _anyone’s_ cock as much as Peter enjoys sucking his.  
  
It’s honestly killing him, Peter is genuinely sucking his life out through his cock. When he feels Peter’s throat contract, squeezing around the tip of his cock where he’s _just barely_ held back from hitting the back of his throat, he jerks his hips forward instinctively, hitting the back of Peter’s throat.  
  
“ _Fuck_.” He expects Peter to choke, but instead he just pulls him in closer, bringing his hands up to work his balls, just gently enough, and push his thumb into the base of his cock and _fuck_ , the kid really is a fast learner. He’s already figuring out how to make Tony come undone _way_ too fast and Tony can’t even bring himself to be upset about it.  
  
The strain of keeping still is making his already sore muscles ache so he tries thrusting up into Peter’s mouth, just a little. Peter takes it beautifully and he tightens his hands in his hair to thrust up a little stronger. He lets Peter keep control of the pace, still, and Peter takes everything he gives him, falling apart on his cock.  
  
The heat swelling inside him is enough to make him dizzy. Peter’s eyes have slipped shut and he’s moaning and drooling all over Tony’s cock, sucking like there’s nothing on earth he wants more than for Tony to come in his mouth. Though, oddly enough, doesn’t even seem like he’s all that urgent about making him come, instead taking his time to _savour_ having Tony filling his mouth, and, ironically enough, that’s pushing Tony towards the edge faster than not.  
  
Peter looks, somehow, like he’s the one getting off on this, and then Tony glances down to see Peter’s cock, straining and leaking, he realizes that’s because he _is_.  
  
“Oh fuck, Peter.” He moans. “You’re such a little cockslut, I can’t- fuck. Just when I thought you couldn’t be more perfect, Peter, baby, look at you.” He groans. “ _Look at you._ About to come just because you love sucking cock so much, baby. I- fuck.” Tony is quickly barreling past the point of words, seeing proof of how much Peter is getting off on this has pushed his control pretty close to the limit pretty damn quick.  
  
When Peter sinks down and finally, finally manages to take him down to the root, nose nuzzling into the thatch of curls at the base of him, Tony’s impulse control fails entirely. His hands go tight in Peter’s hair and his hips push forward, crushing Peter’s face into his crotch as he grinds up into his mouth, dragging his cock over the back of his throat.  
  
Pleasure rolls through him, thick and slow as he goes hot then cold then hot all over. Peter is choking and gurgling on his cock as he empties himself down the back of his throat, Tony can feel it, can feel him shaking under his hands and on his dick with the effort to stay where he is, but he never pushes back. When he finally relaxes his hips, he sees why.  
  
Peter looks dazed, eyes gone a little unfocused, lips swollen red and slick with saliva and come as he gasps for air, but all Tony can focus on is the fact that Peter’s chest is clearly covered in his own come.  
  
“Jesus fucking Christ.” He moans, he runs his hand through Peter’s hair and when he goes to pull him up Peter must get his signals crossed because instead he leans forward and ducks down to drag his tongue over Tony’s balls, licking away some of the mess that’s accumulated there, cock dragging over his face, and Tony nearly _dies_. “Christ, kid. I’ll do anything you fucking want, you know that?” Peter makes small, appreciative noises as he lazily, reverently cleans Tony’s cock and balls with his mouth. “You’re too fucking much. I’m never letting go of you, ever. I’ll give you anything you want, baby.” Tony promises. He’s not the type to get carried away so easily after an orgasm, but he means every word.  
  
When Peter’s done, he pulls him up for real, bringing Peter onto his knees so he can pull him close and kiss him so hard he loses his breath again, not caring at all about the mess spreading between them. He drags a hand through it and brings it up between them, watching as Peter sucks his fingers into his mouth without a moment’s hesitation, he can’t even wait for him to finish cleaning them off to kiss him again, spreading Peter’s own come over his face as he tastes it on his tongue.  
  
Distantly, he wishes he’d come on Peter’s face, but there’ll be plenty of time for that later, he promises himself. It’s definitely a priority. Either way, he notes when he pulls back, he’s achieved the same end result, having smeared Peter’s own come all across his face and through his hair. It definitely suits him.  
  
“I can’t believe you came like that.” He groans, slipping down to suck a mark into Peter’s skin. When he pulls back, he feels real, genuine sadness that he can’t just keep Peter here all day, warm, naked, and covered in come, preferably even more of it as the day goes on, but he’s determined not to let it dampen the mood. “Please know, since you apparently love sucking cock so much, I am genuinely _always_ here for you.” He grins. “Difficult though it may be.”  


* * *

  
  
When he takes Tony all the way down, he moves his hands out of the way, reaching down to stroke himself. The way Tony grabs his hair and holds him down, making him gag while he comes down his throat is all that Peter needs to reach his own release. His come slings haphazardly onto his stomach and hands and he wishes that he could taste Tony because that's the only thing he can think of that would be make this any better than it already is.  
  
He begins to relax around Tony's cock as he rides out his orgasm, slowing his pace until he pulls Peter off of him, but he's not ready to be done just yet. He's never been so greedy in his entire life as he is with Tony- With his body and his his attention and affections. He moves in to lick Tony clean as he tells Peter how he's ready to give him the world and he doesn't doubt for a second that Tony would, if he could.  
  
Tony kisses him and offers his fingers, covered in Peter's own come he doesn't hesitate to take it into his mouth. It's messy and Tony is kissing him again, smearing his fingers across Peter's cheek and into his hair. It's filthy, but Peter loves it- Just another way for Tony to mark him as he sucks into his skin.  
  
“Good, 'cause I don't want anyone else's.” Peter sighs against his hair. “Just yours.”  
  
Peter's pretty sure that no one else's cock could be as perfect and delicious as Tony's, though he's in no rush to test that theory. Honestly, if Tony hadn't pulled him up, he probably would have held him in his mouth until he was hard again, doing it all over except this time he'd have Tony come on his face and tongue so he could smell and taste him properly.  
  
He kisses the side of Tony's neck before he pulls away, kissing him once more on the lips before standing. He reaches up to run a hand through his hair, brushing it out of his eyes when he makes a face.  
  
“Now I have to shower..” He sticks his tongue out at Tony who just pinches him on the ass as he turns around, headed for the bathroom. He does a quick lather and rinse before stepping out with the towel around his waist as he moves back into the living room to grab the clothing he'd left behind from his backpack earlier. He slips on the shirt and the underwear, turning back to Tony.  
  
“What do you think?” He smiles as he slips his thumbs into the hem of the underwear, the cartoon drawing of the Iron Man helmet directly over the bulge of his dick. The way Tony's eyes rake up and down him as he licks his lip makes Peter think Tony might have a little bit of a thing for Peter being a fan and he makes a mental note of it.  
  
He finishes getting dressed, loading the backpack over his shoulder before giving Tony one last, long kiss goodbye before making his way down the elevator. When he steps out onto the street, he takes a deep breath. He has no idea what he's going to do, so he puts in the small earpiece that came with the phone Tony gave him.  
  
“Friday, where should I go?” He asks the A.I. for advice.  
  
“At Mr. Stark's request, I've collected a list of the city's best attractions, food and shopping. What would you like to do first?” She informs him, helpfully.  
  
Peter chews his lips, knowing that Tony wants him to buy things, torn between not wanting to disappoint him and not really wanting to spend his money, he decides to just get it out of the way.  
  
“Let's go shopping. Nowhere too fancy, though..”  
  
She guides him several blocks over to a series of shops that are actually somewhat casual, though he still feels incredibly out of place as he steps through the doors. A man, not much older than himself, impeccably dressed is straightening a display of watches, but lifts his head when he hears footsteps. There's a moment when the man looks him up and down before quickly putting a smile on his face, greeting him.  
  
Peter's nervous at first, but once the man- Thomas, as he introduced himself- Starts to pull items for him, helping him figure out a style and color palette that works for him, it actually gets easier. In the dressing room, he's surprised to find that most of the items fit really well and look great on him, a testament to the sales associate's skills.  
  
He decides to keep most of the items and Thomas delicately folds and bags them, setting them off to the side as Peter hands over the credit card Tony gave him.  
  
“Um.. How much is it?” He isn't sure if it's tacky to ask, but he's curious.  
  
“Don't worry about it, sweetie. Daddy's paying, right?” Thomas smiles sweetly at him as he swipes.  
  
“Huh?” Peter's not sure what he means..  
  
“Never mind. It's $2145.87.” He answers with a little bit of a smirk that only confuses Peter more.  
  
“Thanks.” Peter's not sure if that's a lot or too much and it makes him a little uneasy, but at least it seems like enough that he can call it quits on the shopping for the day without catching too much grief from Tony. He's certainly got enough outfits to last him a while.  
  
He does what Tony said and tells him where to have it sent and the boy's eyes widen just enough for Peter to notice before he nods, making a note, telling Peter that his items will be delivered immediately.  
  
Moving on, Peter decides he just wants to wander around for a while. Taking out the camera, he snaps a few photos before a sweet smell catches his nose and he looks around until he sees the ornate sign that simply says _Chocolatier_.  
  
When he steps inside, it's like heaven.. It smells so wonderful and everything is so beautiful. Each piece looks like a tiny work of art. He orders a few to enjoy now and purchases a mixed box to have sent to the tower. He kind of wants to eat them off of Tony's body..  
  
He spends the rest of the morning on the train, riding through Brooklyn, content to just stare out the window, re-acquainting himself with the city. When he gets to the end of the line, he can smell the ocean air and he sees a sign for the aquarium. He smiles as he approaches, purchasing a ticket.  
  
It's fun, at first.. Being surrounded by familiar wildlife, walking through the tunnel and seeing the fish swimming all around him. Then the homesick feeling starts to kick in and he realizes just how much he misses the water and he _knows_ he can't go back..  
  
His life is here now and he has so much to be grateful for, he feels a little guilty for missing his old life. He knows he needs to move on and he pulls out his phone, dialing Tony.  
  
“Hey.. No, I'm great, I just..” He takes a breath. “I'd like to see May tonight, if that's okay.”  


* * *

  
  
When he sees Peter dressed in the Iron Man t-shirt and underwear that he’d bought for him, the temptation to drag him back to bed and mess him up again is very, very strong. He resists, but he can’t help idly wondering how open Peter might be to a little game of pretend, at some point… He’d make a pretty cute groupie.  
  
Unfortunately, once Peter is gone, he can’t put off starting the day any longer. He drags himself into the shower, keeping it a little chilly as he does his best to banish the lovely fantasy of Peter in Iron Man underwear with a face full of come that his mind is continually pushing to the forefront of this thoughts. He doesn’t linger, staying just long enough to get clean before toweling off and making his way to the vanity.  
  
As he makes his way through shaving and brushing his teeth, he makes a list in his head of everything he’s got to get done for the day, it’s not particularly long. It mainly goes: call a doctor, hire a second driver (he’s already decided that Peter can have Happy when he can be convinced to take a town car), follow whatever instructions Pepper inevitably gives him as far as board meetings and PR are concerned.  
  
It’s around this point that it occurs to him he has no idea if the fact that he was missing was even public knowledge. He really _has_ been living in a bubble, all wrapped up in Peter and trying to fold him into his life as painlessly as possible for them both, but for Peter, especially. He’s not sorry, but he’ll admit that he should probably be paying a little more attention to everything else going on around him. When he was stuck out on that island, when he was tied up, he’d been so terrified of letting everyone down, and now that he’s home he’s barely spared the rest of the world a thought.  
  
It’s with this in mind that he resolves to make more of an effort to get involved, again, leaving the bathroom to get dressed properly. He puts on one of his favourite suits, it’s one of his better ones and he hopes it’ll make it clear that he’s ready to _try_ when he goes to see Pepper.  
  
He makes their arrangements to see a doctor tomorrow, asks FRIDAY to find him another driver to keep on retainer, and heads out the door, ready to face the day.  
  
By the time he reaches Pepper’s office, he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t a little nervous. She’s not happy right now, he can understand why, but he fully intends to keep Peter in his life and he _does_ care that they get along. Of course, there’s the business end of things, but there’s rarely anything truly new there. She tells him what to do and he does it, easy.  
  
He closes the door behind him and takes a seat, doing his best not to fidget. She hasn’t looked up from her computer screen.  
  
“Tony, glad to see you decided show up.”  
  
“You thought I wouldn’t?”  
  
“I thought you might be _busy_.” She says, not cruel, but definitely pointed, finally giving him her full attention. “Now, business first?” He nods.  
  
It takes a couple hours, but she runs him through everything he needs to know. By the end of it, he’s been briefed on the meetings and public appearances they’ll be attending over the next week, and informed that he and Peter should both be expecting a visit from his PR team very soon to figure out what they’re going to say if and when they continue to be spotted in public together. It’s a pretty natural segue into the part of the conversation Tony has been both actively dreading and unable to take his mind off of.  
  
“Tony, I need you to promise me you’re going to listen to what I have to say.”  
  
“I will, but you’ve got to hear me out, too.” Pepper looks like she wants to argue, but instead she nods.  
  
“Fine.” She folds her arms over the desk. “Why don’t you go first?” That takes him off guard, but it’s not unwelcome. “Yeah?”“Maybe you’ll change my mind. A little. We’ll see.”  
  
Tony takes a deep breath, not entirely sure where to start, and just… dives in. He starts with the boat, explains the storm, waking up to Peter having pulled him in to safety, his fever, their days on the island. The explanation runs pretty smooth until he reaches the cave collapse.  
  
“So, he’s powered, then?” Tony nods.  
  
“Great. And you started sleeping with him _immediately after a near death experience_?” She asks, very pointedly baffled by his stupidity.  
  
“Pepper, I know how it sounds-”  
  
“How it _is,_ Tony.” Her voice is hard.  
  
“You said you’d hear me out!” He points out. She makes a visible effort to stop herself from continuing, and he appreciates the effort. He does, genuinely know how this must sound. It wasn’t the best idea, truly, but it’s not like she’s worried it is.  
  
“Go on.” She says, voice a somewhat alarming calm. He listens, anyways.  
  
He continues, on, testing Peter’s strength, being kidnapped, their time on the boat. He doesn’t go into too much detail about what went on between them, she knows when they started sleeping together, that’s more than enough. What he does try his best to highlight is how _smart_ Peter is, how much he’s been through. How he’s probably been the most clear-headed one between the two of them, the whole time. Although, when he points out that he genuinely did warn Peter about _them_ , that people wouldn’t like it, and for fair enough reasons, tried to give him an out and make sure he really, really considered whether or not he was feeling pressured or coerced by the extreme circumstances, she doesn’t seem entirely convinced.  
  
When he explains the kidnapping, he can see the shadow of upset fall over her face and he interrupts himself briefly to tell her he’s already made plans to see a doctor. She looks impressed and he points out that it was Peter’s idea, of course he doesn’t specify exactly how or why it came up.  
  
By the time he’s finished, Pepper’s face has softened, but he somehow feels less confident than when he started. Really laying out everything, calling it all back to mind with the perspective of a couple days back home, there’s a few things he should’ve done better. He knows, _knows_ that Peter really, sincerely does want to be with him, but he also knows, deep down, that he probably never should have kissed him. Not before they left the island, at the very least.  
  
Still, if he’s honest with himself, regardless of whether or not it was the right thing to do, there’s no chance he’d take any of it back.  
  
“Okay.” Pepper says slowly, once he’s finally finished. “I can tell you really care for him. He’s not just… a souvenir.” Tony cringes. It’s not something he loves to hear, but he’s been known to bring one back, now and then, so he can hardly blame her.  
  
“I love him.” Tony affirms, shocking himself with how easily it tips off his tongue, and how good it feels to tell someone, even someone who doesn’t necessarily approve. Pepper looks about as shocked as he would have expected, had he really expected to say it at all.  
  
“Well, then. As unorthodox as things are… I’m happy for you. Somehow.” Of course, she sounds about as surprised by her own sincerity as he feels. “That being said, you haven’t changed my mind.”  
  
“Pepper-“ He starts, distressed. He really didn’t want to have to argue with her.  
  
“Hold on.” She holds up a hand, to silence him, he has to physically bite his tongue to cut himself off. “It’s your turn to shut up, remember?” He almost speaks, but she waves her hand again. “ _Tony._ ” She warns, he slumps back into his chair with a frustrated sigh.“Thank you.” She says.  
  
“Now, I’m not going to try and convince you to break up with him.” And that’s- more than he expected. “But I am going to _need_ you to take a serious look at the situation you’ve created for him. You rescued him-” Tony wants to point out that, in fact, Peter has rescued _him_ more than the other way around, but he holds back. He understands what she means. “You buy him clothes, food, electronics, and I get that, Tony, I do. He has nothing, but you’re giving him _everything,_ things he has no other means of accessing, and you’re living with him, and you’re sleeping with him, and whether he realizes it, whether you mean to or not- I know you don’t- you’re making him feel indebted to you. You’re making him reliant on you, Tony. That’s not healthy.”  
  
It’s hard, very hard to hear, because he wants to yell and argue and tell Pepper that he would _never_ expect anything of Peter in return for those things, he’s never pressured Peter into anything. All he’s ever done is try to take care of him and now that he has the means again he wants to use them to do that. Still, no matter how badly he wants to say all of these things, he knows it would be pointless, because she already knows all of these things, she knows _him_ , and he knows she’s right.  
  
“I’m sorry, Tony. I know you’re only trying to help him, but intent isn’t the bottom line, the situation matters.” She really does sound sorry.“I know.” His voice comes out rougher than he expected. “I’m not saying you should stop helping him, help him all you want, he needs some support, but he also needs space. Based on everything you’ve just told me, he’s never been alone in- _the world_ , with other people, before. Especially not as an adult.” Tony appreciates that she says it that way, it’s understandably more difficult not to after hearing what Peter’s been through. “He needs to figure out who he is on his own or he’s going to end up completely lost if you two split up.” His heart hurts thinking about it, but she’s right. It wasn’t intentional, but he’s encouraged Peter to be codependent, _he_ ’ _s_ been codependent and he’s dragged Peter along with him.  
  
“Between age and means, there’s a power imbalance, Tony, on top of all the _trauma_. If you’re going to be with him, you have to _think_ , you have to do it properly. Relationships aren’t exactly your forte and this one… well, you really don’t do anything the easy way, do you?” She sounds tired, but there’s a little affection there, as well. He manages a smile that’s at least half sincere.  
  
“You’re right. I know you’re right, I just-” He’s cut off by the buzzing in his pocket. “It’s Peter.” He pulls the phone out of his pocket, hoping for a little privacy. She nods. “You mind?”  
  
“Not at all.” She smiles, faux innocent, motioning for him to take the call. He turns in his seat with a huff, fully aware of how childish it looks, and swipes to answer.  
  
“Hey, you alright?” He wants to kick himself after he says it, but Peter’s response sounds nervous enough that he’s not sorry he checked right away. Peter assures him he’s fine, and Tony can hear him steady himself to tell him that he’d like to see May tonight. He wonders if Peter is aware of how emotional he sounds, and there’s a pang in his chest as he wishes he could pull him into his arms. He thinks of the distance that he _knows_ Pepper is right about and he aches already. He hates it.  
  
“Of course, I’ll invite her over for dinner. That sound good?” Peter says yes, thanks him, though he doesn’t need to, and Tony checks that he’s alright one more time. He wants to keep Peter on the phone, tell him he misses him, wants to give him the hug he clearly needs, ask him what he’s done today- as if he can’t just track Peter’s phone, if he chooses to- but, distance. Besides, as unexpectedly forgiving as she’s been, it’s not exactly the kind of conversation he wants to have in front of Pepper, or anyone.  
  
“Alright, I’m in a meeting so I’ll see you later, okay?” After one more goodbye from Peter, he tells him he loves him and hangs up.  


“Where’s he been, today?” Pepper asks, slightly suspicious. Tony takes a deep breath, turning back and straightening his suit jacket.  
  
“Out.”  
  
“Out.” She repeats with narrowed eyes. “Out where?”  
  
“I don’t know, just around. Seeing.” He resolutely _does not_ look guilty. “Shopping.”  
  
“Shopping with whose money, Tony?” Pepper asks sharply, clearly already knowing the answer.  
  
“Come on, Pep! He needs things, he literally has nothing, what was I supposed to do?!” Pepper does look swayed by that.  
  
“You’re right.” She sighs. “He does need help getting back on his feet, that’s the right thing to do. As long as you didn’t give him a credit card…” She trails off, Tony’s not sure what his face is doing, but clearly nothing in his favour. “Tony, tell me you didn’t.”  
  
“It was just easier!”  
  
“You gave him access to your accounts?!”  
  
“No! Not exactly, I just- opened a joint credit account. He’s not eighteen yet-”  
  
“Don’t remind me.”  
  
“He can’t have his own without a legal co-signer! It’s only got a half a mil limit, nothing to-”  
  
“You _gave him half a million dollars?!_ ”  
  
“I-” Tony stops short. She has definitely given him flack for his lack of awareness where the scale of money is concerned before. He’s starting to suspect this is what she meant. “I… thought he might need it. To buy- I don’t know, a hotdog, or a taxi. Or- something.”  
  
“A _hotdog_ , I can’t- Tony-” Pepper drops her face into her hands momentarily, before righting herself.  
  
“Never-mind, it’s not important. Who’s invited for dinner?” She asks without waiting.  
  
“Peter’s aunt. May Parker.” Pepper looks surprised.  
  
“He has an aunt?” She asks, rhetorical. “I didn’t know that, you’ve already found her?” Tony nods.  
  
“She lives in Queens, has since he can remember.” For a moment, Pepper stays quiet. She looks like she’s whipping together a plan, it’s an expression he’s familiar with. He’s learned to stay quiet, with great pains, let her think.  
  
“Alright,” She says, finally. “I have to say two things, and you’re not going to like either of them. One less so than the other.”  
  
“Give me the bad news first, doc.”  
  
“She’s going to have to know about the two of you, Tony.” He groans. Yes, she will, but he’s sure they can have a bit of time, first, to decide how to tell her. “She’s going to want to know _why_ Peter would rather be here, with you, than with his family after everything he’s been through. The sooner she knows the better.”  
  
“I know, Pep, we’re going to tell her soon, just-”  
  
“No, you’re going to tell her tonight. Or I will.”  
  
And that- Tony definitely didn’t expect that.  
  
“What- no, Pepper, _what the hell_.” He demands.  
  
“You know I’m right, Tony. Don’t even start. She’s his legal next of kin, he’s _a minor_. She should be looking after him right now!” Tony is a lot of things, bewildered, angry, frustrated.  
  
“What difference will a week make?!”  
  
“A major one, when she realizes she’s been lied to! She could take legal action if she’s angry enough, Tony.”  
  
“What- Peter’s seventeen, it’s not illegal!”  
  
“No, but if you’re keeping him here-”  
  
“Jesus, I’m not _keeping_ him anywhere, he’s here because he wants to be!”  
  
“If he’s _staying_ here, after being missing for years, and you’ve let him, despite _knowing_ he has a guardian _in the city_! I’m no lawyer, but that sounds actionable.”  
  
“Come on-”  
  
“She’s going to find out sooner or later, and the longer it takes, the angrier she’ll be. Do you really want to go through that? Do you want _Peter_ to go through that?” That one stings. Tony sighs, frustrated.  
  
“Fine, we’ll tell her. What else.” Pepper relaxes back a little. “You’re not going to like this one either, but if anything it’s going to make telling her go a little smoother. You should be thanking me.” He’ll believe it when he sees it.  
  
“Peter should go and live with his aunt.” Tony opens his mouth to protest, and Pepper ploughs right through, not giving him the chance. “Keep supporting him, keep seeing him, but it’s the right thing to do. He needs some time and distance to figure himself out, and _you_ need to not traumatize him even more by having his aunt take you to court.” Tony’s grinding his teeth but- yeah. She has a point. Several points. “Besides, you said he’s seventeen, so you _know_ that no matter what, it’s only temporary. A few months to sort things out and he can move right back in the day he turns eighteen, if he wants to.”  
  
Tony already knows, as she’s saying it, that it’s the right thing to do, but he desperately _does not want to_ , not only is it going to crush Peter, which is bad enough, but he’s scared. He’s scared that Peter will fall out of love with him, become disillusioned, decide that Tony isn’t what he wants, after all. That he won’t want to come back.  
  
“Tony?” Pepper tries, he realizes he’s been silent a little too long for comfort. He looks up at her, and the worries must be plain on his face, because she really does look like she wishes things were different, for him.  
  
“I hate this, Pep.”  
  
“I know, Tony. But you’re doing the right thing, it’s rarely easy.”  
  
“Yeah,” He sighs. “I know.” They spend a moment in silence, before he gets up.  
  
“I’ve gotta call his aunt before he gets home, I’m gonna…” He gestures to the door, effectively tapping out of the conversation. She lets him go.  
  
“You’re a good man, Tony.” She says before he leaves. He snorts. “Seriously. A lot about this is- questionable, but you’re doing your best. You’ve come along way, alright?”  
  
He nods, thanks her, and definitely does not get choked up on his way out the door.  


* * *

  
  
Peter leaves the aquarium right after he gets off the phone with Tony, arriving back at the tower just about an hour later. May would be there in just a couple of hours and his stomach is in knots thinking about it. As he walks toward the elevator, a petite brunette steps into his path.  
  
“Mr. Parker?” She smiles politely at him.  
  
“Um.. Yes?” He shouldn't be surprised that she knows who he is, but he is, a little bit.  
  
“Ms. Potts would like to speak with you. Right this way.” She begins to lead him to the elevator without question and Peter follows her lead, wondering if Ms. Potts was the woman from this morning..  
  
When the door to the office opens, the woman behind the desk thanks the brunette and Peter definitely recognizes her voice.  
  
“You wanted to see me?”  


* * *

  
  
When Peter steps into her office, he’s got a strange look on his face. It’s not difficult to guess why, she likely hadn’t made the best first impression, assuming he’d heard them this morning. Wanting to make him feel welcome she stands and rounds the desk so she can walk over to him, shaking his hand and guiding him into the chair across from her desk as she dismisses her assistant.  
  
“Peter, it’s nice to finally meet you. My name is Pepper Potts.” She smiles, returning to her chair. “I wanted to apologize for this morning, I’m assuming you heard Tony and I?”  
  
While she waits for him to reply, Pepper takes the opportunity to asses Peter. He’s not quite comfortable, she doesn’t blame him, but he doesn’t exactly seem nervous, either. Not easily intimidated, she does appreciate that, he’s going to have to be as tough as Tony said he is, if he’s going to make a real go of things with him.  


* * *

  
  
Peter shakes her hand, holding himself as solidly as possible as her eyes move up and down him. He's determined to show her that he can hold his own, ready for anything she has to say to him. She has an intimidating stance and truth be told, he's kind of terrified of her, but he's not going to show it.  
  
“Yeah, I did..” He sits when she offers, hiding his clenched fists below the edge of the desk. “But you don't have to apologize for looking out for him. I'm glad you are.” It's tough to read her expression, but clearly that wasn't what she had been expecting to hear.  
  
He meant it, thought. He and Tony had talked about what was going to happen when they got back and he _knew_ there would be obstacles, their age difference and circumstances behind their meeting being the most prominent. Just because he and Tony know that their feelings are real doesn't mean everyone else is going to understand it.  


* * *

  
  
So far, Peter is a pleasant surprise. He’s definitely holding together better than she’d really expected, and a part of her is a little bit tempted to grill him further, just to see how far that brave face goes. Still, that’s not why he’s here and it’s not what she wants most out of this conversation.  
  
“I’m glad to hear that. Tony’s not always the best at taking care of himself, so it never hurts to look out for him, as I’m sure you’ll see, if you haven’t already.” She smiles, a little sad, a little amused, it’s emotionally honest for their first real conversation, but it’s going to be the unavoidable nature of it, anyways.  
  
“That’s actually not why I brought you here, really. I just want to make sure that someone is looking out for _you._ I know you have Tony, but I also know that he can be a little… overwhelming, especially in a new relationship. Sometimes he gets so caught up in his need to give you what he _thinks_ you should want that he misses what you actually need.”  


* * *

  
  
Listening to her talk about Tony hits a nerve in him. She speaks like she knows him so well and part of Peter is jealous because he wants to know Tony like that- Inside and out the way you can only know someone after such a long time together.  
  
When she mentions what he's like in a relationship like she knows first hand, he wonders briefly if she does and the feeling only gets worse. Tony would have mentioned that.. Right?  
  
“Me?” Peter shakes his head. “No, I have everything I need. More than enough, actually.”  


* * *

  
  
Peter’s a touch defensive, and she’s suddenly very sure that Tony hadn’t actually _mentioned_ his past with her, and this is exactly why she’s warning Peter. It should’ve been obvious that they’d inevitably run into each other, sooner than later, giving Peter a heads up would’ve been the considerate thing to do.  
  
Still, she doesn’t want him to shut down, so she doesn’t push.  
  
“If you’re sure.” She nods. “Just something to keep in mind. If you ever want to talk about anything- Tony didn’t go into too much detail but from what I understand you’ve been through quite an ordeal, the last few years- it doesn’t have to be to me, but I want you to know you have options.” It’s a risky suggestion, she’s fully aware of this as she passes the business card to Peter.  
  
She’d love to be able to urge Peter to call the number on the card, but it’s not her place. Not everyone would take it well, so she very deliberately doesn’t linger on the subject, not wanting to allow Peter the time to overthink the gesture.  
  
“Now, there’s something else we need to talk about.” She says firm, but not too pointed. She doesn’t want Peter to think that she blames him for what she’s about to show him. Pepper bends to grab the small stack of magazines from her purse and lays them out on the desk. “I’m sure you’ve seen some of these already?”  


* * *

  
  
Peter takes the card from her, reading over the small font. A therapist? His life hadn't exactly been easy, but he didn't think he needed to see a therapist- There was nothing wrong with him.. He didn't dwell on it for long as she moved on, pulling a stack of magazines from below the desk, spreading them out.  
  
“No, actually..” He pulls the top one over, staring down at the picture. Tony's arm is around him and he's smiling, his cheeks pink. He smiled a little before reading the headline, eyes wandering over to he other magazines, each title nastier than the last and his lips tightened as he set it back down.  
  
“I don't care what they think, Ms. Potts. I love him.”  


* * *

  
  
Pepper can’t help grinning a little when Peter says he loves Tony, with every bit the same stubborn conviction that Tony had, at least they suit each other.  
  
“You know I can count on one hand the people who can say that about Tony, in any sense, and mean it, and I do believe you’re one of them. The number of people I’ve heard _him_ say he loves is even smaller, but you’re on that list, too.”  
  
She’s not particularly looking for a specific reaction, but she can definitely see something pleased light up behind his eyes.  
  
“Anyways,” She shakes her head, “I’m happy to hear it, but that’s not the concern, here. I just want you to understand that this,” She gestures to the magazines. “Is only going to get worse. It might ease up a little, once you get older, but as long as Tony is in your life it will never go away. It’s going to have a huge impact on the way you’re able to function in society, personal relationships, whether you care about it or not. People are going to try everything to invade your privacy, they’re going to spread lies and say ugly things about you and your relationship with Tony and a lot of people are going to believe it. Strangers used to come up to me and accuse me of cheating, or being a gold digger, and our relationship was much less unorthodox, it’s probably going to be even more difficult, for you. People feel entitled to everything about Tony, _especially_ his relationships, some of them are going to try and hurt you. Maybe even physically, he’s not exactly shy about making enemies, in or out of the suit.”  
  
She takes a deep breath, and gentles her tone, slightly. “I want you to know that I’m not asking you to prove anything, Peter. I just want you to think about these things, for your own sake.”  


* * *

  
  
It makes his heart flutter when she says that Tony hasn't admitted to loving very many people in the past. He knows how Tony feels about him, but hearing it coming from someone else makes him feel validated. Then she starts talking about how the press used to treat her and Peter realizes he was right, they had been together and he feels a pang of anger that Tony didn't think to tell him- To warn him.  
  
Tony had to know they would be in this position sooner or later, especially after this morning. A heads up would have been nice before he was cornered with her and while she seems like she means well, like she cares for Tony still and wants to help, it's unfair that she has the advantage of knowing about him while he hadn't even known her name before he stepped into her office.  
  
He wants to tell her that he can protect himself, protect Tony even if it came down to it, but she already seems to know more about him than he cares for, so he bites his tongue and nods.  
  
“I understand. I know you think that I don't, but I do.” Peter looks her in the eye, wanting to be certain that _she_ understands. “Nothing they can do could hurt me as much as losing him.”  


* * *

  
  
“I believe you, just keep in mind that doesn’t mean you can ignore everything else that hurts and expect to be okay.” It’s not difficult to see that Peter’s the type to put others before himself, and it’s endearing, it is, but it’s not always going to work out for him.  
  
“I doubt you believe me, but I’m rooting for the two of you.” She offers. “You’re good for him.” That’s true, Tony has been visibly lighter, but she doesn’t voice the part where she’s afraid that Tony isn’t good for Peter. Quite the opposite. “I really do appreciate that you’re looking out for Tony, Peter, just don’t forget to look out for yourself, as well.” With that she pushes back from the desk, relaxing into her chair.  
  
“Anyways, I’m sure you’re itching to get going, but I do have one thing to ask of you, alright?” Peter’s frustration is definitely starting to show, but he nods, anyways. She appreciates it. “Don’t ignore what I’ve said, just because I’m the one who said it. I know you feel like you’ve got it all figured out, but you might be surprised, sooner or later. I hope I turn out to be wrong about that, for what it’s worth.” She rarely is.  


* * *

He doesn't like the way she seems so sure that Tony is going to hurt him. Tony's done nothing but take care of him and love him and give him everything him could need and then far more. He nods though, telling himself that she's just looking out for him, taking her words with a grain of salt as he stands, saying goodbye. In the elevator, he starts to wonder what went wrong with the two of them that make her so certain that things will be so hard between them.  
  
He decides not to bring it up as the doors open and he's a little disappointed when he doesn't see Tony. Setting his bag down by the door, he peaks his head into the kitchen, confirming that he's not there either. Peter looks at the clock on his phone, seeing that it's just after five. Tony said he'd be back before six and May was going to be here for dinner at seven.  
  
He makes his way to the bedroom, stripping his pants off before climbing into bed. It's been a long day and the chance to take a nap before Tony gets back is not going to pass him by. He buries himself under the covers and Friday intuitively dims the tint on the windows. The next thing he knows, he feels a warm hand on his shoulder and smiles.  
  
“Hi.” He mumbles into the pillow before looking up at Tony, taking in the sight of him in his suit. “You look nice.”  


* * *

  
  
Tony gets back right around six and finds Peter curled up in bed. His first day being back in the city for real must have tired him out, it makes Tony smile, a little, as he reaches out to give Peter’s shoulder a gentle shake.  
  
“Hi.” Peter mumbles, voice still a little rough with sleep. “You look nice.” He grins sleepily up at Tony, and he looks so soft and warm that he can’t help putting a hand out to brush through his hair, chest aching.  
  
“So do you, always.” He realizes it sounds stupid, but a part of him is afraid of how Peter’s going to react to what he has to say, so he figures he’s permitted to be a bit of a sap, for now. He leans down to press a slow kiss to Peter’s lips while he shakes off the haze of his nap.  
  
When he pulls back Peter protests, but he wants to get this out of the way first. He brushes his thumb over Peter’s cheek before moving it away and taking a seat on the side of the bed, hand instead resting on the lump of Peter’s legs under the covers.  
  
“There’s something we should talk about before your aunt gets here.”  


* * *

  
  
Peter lets him pull away, as much as he doesn't want to, sitting up against the headboard, not missing the tightness in Tony's shoulder as he sits down. Maybe later, he can give Tony a massage to help relax him..  
  
“Okay..” Peter's a little hesitant at how serious his voice sounds.  
  
Tony opens his mouth to speak, but closes it quickly, licking his lips. It's a little tick that Peter normally finds so charming and endearing, but now it's making him nervous.  


* * *

  
  
Tony is genuinely afraid that Peter will react badly to what he’s about to say, because if he doesn’t take this well, Tony can only imagine how poorly it’s going to go when he brings up moving. He opens his mouth to speak, but closes it again, last second, unsure where to start, deciding after a moment that it’s probably best to just get it over with, be direct.  
  
“We should tell your aunt about us.” He watches Peter closely for a reaction. “Tonight.” He hopes he sounds more confident than he feels in the decision.  


* * *

  
  
Peter knows they have to tell May about them eventually and he wants to, he really does, but..  
  
“Tonight?” He doesn't understand why it has to be so soon. “Why tonight?”  
  
Honestly, there's a chance she'd already seen those magazines that Ms. Potts showed him. She may have already figured it out, but what if she hasn't? What if she doesn't approve of them and Peter has to choose between them?  
  
The thought makes him feel sick. He wanted more time, for May to get to know Tony and see everything he's done for Peter before telling her. Maybe then she would happy for them.  


* * *

  
  
Tony can see Peter getting more freaked out, so he twists to face Peter properly, pulling one leg up on the bed, and pulls his hands into his own.  
  
“Hey, I know it’s soon, I know it’s scary, but you’re still seventeen. There’s a chance that the state could decide to award her legal custody of you, instead of emancipating you. If that happens, she could separate us for real until you turn eighteen.” He can see that Peter doesn’t understand why this means they have to tell her now and he can’t help feeling like he’s doing this all wrong. He grips Peter’s hands tighter.  
  
“I just mean- how will she feel if she finds out we’ve been lying to her? If we don’t tell her, it makes it look like there’s something to hide. I don’t want to risk losing you for real.” He confesses, pressing a worried kiss to Peter’s knuckles.  


* * *

  
  
When Tony grabs his hands it should be calming, but he can't help but think that he's only doing it because there's worse news to come and he knows Peter isn't going to take it well. When Tony mentions them being separated until he turns eighteen, his stomach jumps and Tony grips his hands tighter.  
  
He doesn't want to lie to May and he understands, as much as he doesn't like it. No matter what, he'll just have to convince her that he and Tony are happy and staying with him is what's best. He just has to hope she accepts that because he's not sure that he can have a relationship with her if she doesn't..  
  
He nods, kissing Tony quickly before he offers to be there for dinner, so Peter doesn't have to tell her alone.  
  
“Can we maybe.. Wait until after dinner to tell her?” Tony nods and kisses him again before leaving, letting him know the food would be arriving shortly and would be set up for them in the dining room. He lays in bed a little while longer, trying to convince himself that the night is going to go well.  
  
Finally, he gets up and looks through the clothing that he'd bought earlier in the day, that had already been put away in the closet. He settles on a simple blue sweater, rolling the sleeves up to his elbows when he hears the elevator ding. The smell of Thai food fills the room as he walks in, greeting the delivery staff.  
  
He smiles a little at the detail. He'd offhandedly mentioned it once that he and his aunt used to eat Thai food every Saturday at a little place nearby their apartment. He hopes it's still her favorite because Tony seems to have ordered a lot of it. He watches them setting up, thanking them as the leave. He fidgets with the plating a little, nervously waiting until he hears a voice call out.  
  
“She's on her way up, Peter.” He's not sure how much personality and emotion an A.I. Is capable of, but Friday is always so nice to him. Nicer than she is to other people.  
  
“Thanks.” He walks over, waiting for the elevator to ding, jumping a little when it finally does. When the doors slide open, he's greeted with a familiar face and thankfully, May looks as nervous as he feels.  
  
“Peter..” She says it like she almost doesn't believe that he's real, stepping out of the elevator slowly at first, but once she's within arms reach of Peter she practically jumps, pulling him into her arms. “Oh, Peter, sweetie.. I'm so glad you're okay, I missed you so much.”  
  
“I missed you too..” He leans into her arms, wrapping around her, nodding into her shoulder, having to lean down to reach it. When she pulls back, she holds his face in her hands and he can see that she's holding back tears, same as him.  
  
“You're so tall! When did you get to be taller than me?” She smiles and Peter laughs, the mood lifting just a little.  
  
“I was almost as tall as you when I was twelve..” He reminds her playfully, but there's an underlying sting as he thinks that was the last time he'd seen her.  
  
“Well, I'd hoped you'd stop.” She teases in return and Peter can feel his worries about seeing her again starting to fade away.  
  
“Come on, Tony ordered us Thai. You still eat Thai, right?” He asks as they sit down.  
  
“Are you kidding? Every Saturday.” She looks at the spread, a little overwhelmed. “This is very nice of him..”  
  
“He's great, May. You'll get to meet him a little later, I think you'll really like him.” He hoped, at least.  
  
“Well, he brought you back to me, so I already like him.” She smiled and Peter smiled back, praying that she doesn't change her mind when she finds out.  
  
The conversation stays light as they eat, both wanting to ease into the more difficult discussion. Eventually, Peter tells her about how he and Tony met, not leaving out any details aside from the intimate ones, since May knows about him. She seems genuinely surprised when he mentions his strength.  
  
“So, my parents and Uncle Ben.. They never..?” She shook her head.  
  
“No, but they were also all half human.” She reminded him and it made sense. Both of his parents were inhuman, so maybe that had something to do with it, a gene that had to be passed down from both of them to give him that extra ability. He'd make sure to mention it to Tony in case he had any ideas.  
  
“Peter, about..” May starts, pushing her plate away. “Your parents..” Her smile falls as she mentions them.  
  
“I know.” He looks down at his empty plate. “I was there.” She purses her lips, reaching over to grab his hand.  
  
“I'm so sorry.. You know you could have come to me.”  
  
“I know, but..” He takes a deep breath. “I didn't want you to get hurt. It's my fault that they-” His voice cracks a little.  
  
“No, no.. It's not your fault, Peter.” She scoots her chair over, bringing his head to her shoulder. “It's not your fault..”  
  
Peter just nods. “I'm sorry I made you worry.”  
  
“It's all right. You're here now.” She runs her hands through his hair. “That's all that matters.”  
  
When he pulls back, he feels a little better. She's not mad at him for running away and hiding and she doesn't blame him for his parents. Deep down, he knew she wouldn't, but it was still a relief to be sure. Now, there's just one more thing he hopes that she accepts.  
  
“There's something else I need to tell you, but..” He forces himself to just do it. “I want you to meet Tony first.”  
  
“Okay..” She sounds skeptical, but agrees.  
  
“Friday, could you ask Tony to come up, please?”  
  
“Of course.” Friday confirms and when the elevator doors open, the anxiety is back, full force.  


* * *

  
  
FRIDAY informs Tony that Peter wants him to join them, he tosses the scrap metal he’s been absently pretending to do something with while waiting, and heads upstairs. He’d seen pictures of May, of course, while looking into her, but in real life her smile is warmer, even as she looks a little off balance.  
  
Peter, on the other hand, is visibly anxious. He’s holding it together well, but Tony knows him, he can see the signs. He wonders if she can, too. It’s irrational, but in a way he hopes she can’t. He wants to be the person who knows Peter best. He immediately chastises himself for the thought.  
  
“May Parker,” He walks over, reminding himself of the fact that this is family, for Peter, this is a good thing, so he can manage a smile that feels genuine. He shakes her hand with both of his. “I’m Tony Stark. I’ve been looking forward to meeting you, Peter’s told me how important you are to him.” It feels a little stiff, but he’s rarely met anyone with the potential to affect something this _significant_ in his life.  


* * *

  
  
“It's great to meet you, Mr. Stark.” She smiles over to Peter for a moment. “Thank you for bringing him back and for everything you've done for him. I don't know how I can ever repay you, he's the only family I have.. I've been so worried about him.”  
  
Peter feels even worse for leaving her now. “We should go sit down..” Peter leads them over to the couch, sitting in the middle with May and Tony on either side of him.  
  
“May..” He's not sure he has the strength to say what he needs to say, so he reaches out to grab Tony's hand, squeezing it tightly. He sees May's eyes on them, but she doesn't say anything, waiting for Peter to continue. “Tony and I are together.”  
  
There's a silence that falls over the room as May looks over to Tony and then back at him. “I'm sorry, what? The two of you..?” She smiles nervously for a moment before her face straightens. “You're serious.”  
  
He can feel the lump building in his throat as he looks over to Tony, overwhelmed and unsure of what to do or say. What if she does decide to take Peter away? It could be months before they see each other again and he just can't deal with that thought.  


* * *

  
  
He sees Peter struggling so he squeezes his hand back and gives him a small nod and a smile he hopes is reassuring, before stepping in.  
  
“We’re sorry to be springing this on you out of nowhere.” Tony looks to May, hoping to convey the sincerity he feels. “We’re both aware of how it looks. I understand that, especially on my end, it might seem pretty sleazy, from the outside.” The look on May’s face says that she’s in no disagreement there, and Tony’s heartbeat upticks just slightly as he pushes forward, pleased to find his voice gives nothing of his nerves away. It shouldn’t be as surprising as it is, really, he _is_ confident in what he’s saying.  
  
“I swear, Mrs. Parker, despite what the optics of our relationship might suggest, I love your nephew, I only have his best interests at heart. We’ve talked about this, a lot,” Admittedly probably not as much as they should have. “If Peter ever wants to leave, if he's ever uncomfortable, I won’t get in his way. I just want him to be happy, and-” Tony swallows, letting a little emotion seep through. “I think I can do that for him, I think I _do_ , do that for him. It would mean a lot to both Peter and myself if you were willing to give us a chance to prove that to you.” He looks to Peter for confirmation, not wanting to leave him feeling sidelined in the conversation.  


* * *

  
  
Peter's relieved when Tony steps in to speak, smiling at him. By the time he's done speaking, May still doesn't seem convinced and Peter's so scared of what she's going to say.  
  
“Mr. Stark.” She starts firmly. “I appreciate everything you've done, more than you can know, but this..”  
  
“May, please.” Peter interrupts her. “Don't make me choose between you..” He almost begs and the look in her eyes tells him that she understands the underlying threat. Peter's not entirely certain he would choose Tony over her if it came down to it, but he really doesn't want it to come down to that either way.  
  
She sighs, frowning. “I'm just worried about you..”  
  
“I know, but I love him and he loves me. Please, just give us a chance.” His heart is in his throat as he watches her for a reaction. Finally, she gives in, shoulders slumping slightly.  
  
“Can I have a moment with him, please?” May requests of Tony and he agrees, letting her know that he'll walk her out when they're done.  
  
“Peter.” She puts her hand on his shoulder, pulling him in for a tight hug. “You're almost an adult, but you've been gone for a long time. You've got a lot to learn about how the world works and I want you to be happy, but I also want you to be safe. If you feel like he expects anything from you, because he's helping you..”  
  
“It's not like that.” Peter insists.  
  
“I want to believe you, Peter, but it's going to take time. I'm not going to tell you that I approve of this, because I don't.” She puts her hand up as he starts to speak. “But.. I do like him. He seems like a good man and he's done a lot for you- for us..”  
  
“I'll make you a deal.. I'll try to get to know him better, but you have to promise me that you'll tell me if you're unhappy or if you think something doesn't feel right, even if you're not sure.”  
  
“Okay.” Peter nods enthusiastically. She's not happy about it, but she's not going to try to break them up. She's going to give them a chance and it's as much as he could have asked for. He brings her in for a tight hug, thanking her over and over before she finally breaks away and they say their goodbyes, promising to get together soon to catch up more.  


* * *

  
  
Tony’s waiting in the elevator when May steps in, and his heart is in his throat. He knows what he’s about to do is going to be better, in the long run, it’ll be good for Peter, for them, it’ll make May understand that he’s serious about having Peter’s best interests at heart, but none of that means he’s happy about it. He hates it.  
  
He promises Peter he’ll be back up in a minute and the elevator doors close. He turns to May.  
  
“I know tonight has already been a lot, but there’s one more thing I wanted to talk to you about, if you don’t mind?” She nods, a questioning look in her eyes. “I think-” He hesitates, the words don’t want to come out. “I think It might be best if Peter comes to live with you, for a while. Just until he’s eighteen.”  


* * *

  
  
She turns her head to him, wondering what else he could possibly add to the argument they'd already presented, like there's any way he can change her mind. Then he speaks and.. It's incredibly sensible.  
  
“I agree.” There's nothing else she can say. She'd thought about it and wanted to bring it up, but she didn't want Peter to think she was trying to separate them. She'd seen the look in his eyes, she knew that wasn't a fight she was going to win.  
  
“Would you like to tell him, or should I?”  


* * *

  
  
Tony’s hands are clasped behind his back to hide the way they’re losing their steadiness, just a little. He’s glad he doesn’t have to explain why this is the right thing, glad she already gets it, he’s not sure he’d be up to it.  
  
“It should come from me.” He assures her before clearing his throat, mentally distancing himself, just a little, from the conversation. “I’ll arrange to have his things moved in on Friday, if that works for you?” He asks as they approach the lobby floor.  
  
He’s doing the right thing. Although he mostly feels just, plain awful, a part of him is relieved. Proud, even. He knows that even though Peter won’t be happy with him, this is what he needs. He just hopes that Peter can see that.  


* * *

  
  
May nods, knowing how hard it must be to send Peter away to stay with her, but they both know it's what's best for Peter and she thinks she may just be proven wrong about him after all.  
  
“That's perfect. Thank you again for everything.” She's a little in her own head as they walk out to the car as she considers his intentions. If he's willing to do the difficult, but right thing, perhaps he really does have genuine feelings for Peter..  
  
“I know this must be hard for you..” She's not entirely unsympathetic to their situation, she of all people knows that you can't help who you fall in love with, no matter how different you may be. If they really, truly do love each other then when Peter turns eighteen, he can make the decision to come back and she'll support them.  


* * *

  
  
The car is already being brought around when they step outside, Tony wishes the air were colder. The shock of it more steadying.  
  
“There’s no need to thank me.” He tells her, sincerely. “It is difficult, but it’s what’s right. For Peter.” She agrees, they say their brief goodbyes as he gets the door for her, shutting it once she’s inside and watching the car go. Once it’s gone and he can’t wait any longer, he heads back inside. His fingers are shaking as he pushes the button for the suite.  
  
The journey up goes by too fast, and he already feels sick when he steps into the apartment. Peter is nowhere to be seen and his heart-rate climbs as he makes his way down the hallway, towards the bedroom. When he reaches the threshold, he finds Peter, splayed out on the bed, massaging himself through his Iron Man underwear. Tony thinks the universe is particularly cruel.  
  
“Peter.” He chokes out, stumbling his way into the bedroom. He sinks to his knees by the bed and drags Peter over, taking his face in his hands so he can kiss him, trying his best not to let it feel like any kind of kiss goodbye, because that’s not what it is.  
  
He pulls back without letting go of Peter’s face, voice far more wrecked than it has any right to be when he speaks.  
  
“I need to tell you something.”  


* * *

  
  
Peter's on cloud nine as he waits for Tony. May likes him and is going to give them a chance. They can be together.. Peter wants to celebrate and he has the perfect idea. Stripping down to his underwear, he lays himself out on the bed, thinking about how wonderful it's going to be staying with Tony, not worrying about other people accepting them since the most important people have already decided they're not going to stop them.  
  
He rubs himself through his underwear, wanting to be fully hard and maybe a little wet by the time Tony comes back up. He smiles when Tony walks through the door, taking in the sight of him, practically growling his name. Tony pulls him to the edge of the bed and kisses him, telling him he wants to talk.  
  
“I'm tired of talking.” Peter sinks down in front of him, grabbing his hand and placing it on the front of his underwear where he's already started to leak through the fabric. “Just touch me..”  


* * *

  
  
Peter slinks off the bed until he’s kneeling over Tony’s thighs and grabs his hand to press it over the bulge in his brief. There’s a small wet patch where he’s already leaking and Tony drops his head forward against Peter’s chest with a groan. He can’t stop himself from giving Peter’s cock a squeeze through the thin cotton and when he grinds up into his hand, Tony wants to _cry_.  
  
“Christ, Peter.” The words feel worn out, far more than is warranted by what Peter’s done so far. With a truly exceptional show of self-restraint, he drags his hand up, away from Peter’s crotch, despite his whines.  
  
Grabbing Peter by the hips, he drags him down into his lap, but not so close that he can grind down against his crotch, knowing he’ll do exactly that, given half a chance. He pulls Peter’s face into his hands again, forcing him to stay still and look at him.  
  
“You have _no idea_ how much I would rather be touching you than saying what I’m about to say.” He promises. “But it can’t wait.”  


* * *

  
  
Peter whines as Tony pulls his hand away, keeping him at a distance even as he's on his lap. It's been such a stressful day, Peter's emotions have been pushed and pulled and he just wants Tony to hold him and touch him until he feels better. He knows Tony needs the same, the man must feel as bad physically as he does mentally with the bruises on his back and shoulders.  
  
Peter wants to make Tony feel better, but he sits back, pouting a little, wanting him to just get it over with so that they can move on to all the fun stuff he has planned.  
  
“Okay, what's _so_ important?”  


* * *

  
  
He looks at Peter, pouting, annoyed, but overall, _happy,_ and takes a moment to savour it, because he knows he’s about to ruin his good mood.  
  
“You know I love you.” Tony says, somewhere between a question and a statement. Peter nods slowly, looking a little more nervous than he did a second ago. “Then you know that I would never ask you to do anything I wasn’t sure would be best for you, even if it hurt.”  
  
Peter looks genuinely concerned, now, and Tony decides it’s probably cruel to drag it out like this. Better to rip the band-aid off than build things up.  
  
“I think you need to go live with your aunt, for a while. Only until you’re eighteen.” He finishes, a little desperate. He’s pretty sure he can _see_ Peter’s heart stop. “Peter, I swear, it’s temporary. The second you turn eighteen you can come back, I’ll _beg_ you, even.”  


* * *

  
  
It feels like ice water is being pumped into his veins as Tony tells him he should go and live with May, his eyes searching Tony's expression. Part of him hopes that it's just an ill-conceived joke, but Tony's face is hard and serious and he knows it's not  
  
“But you said I could stay..” He moved back off of Tony's lap, out of Tony's reach. “Did May say something to you?” Tony starts to answer him, but he's starting to get worked up. “She said she liked you, I don't understand..”  
  
Tony stops him, taking his face in his hands, insisting that it wasn't May's idea and for some reason Peter is inclined to believe him.  
  
“Was it Ms. Potts?” He grabs Tony's hands and pushes them away. “She thinks I'm going to get hurt, but she doesn't know- She doesn't know how strong I am, I can take care of myself-” Tony cuts him off again and he can already feel the tears stinging his eyes.  


* * *

  
  
Peter pushes his hands away and Tony’s chest aches. He can see the tears welling in his eyes and he just wants to hold him. Be there for him, but right now _he’s_ the problem and there’s not much he can do but be honest.  
  
Peter asks if this was Pepper’s idea, insisting that she doesn’t know how strong he is, and- _shit_ , he can’t believe he’s about to somehow make things even worse. Again.  
  
“It wasn’t Pepper.” Tony promises. “It wouldn’t be, she knows how strong you are. I’m sorry.” Peter looks not just hurt, now, but downright _betrayed_ and Tony feels sick with himself. “I just- I wanted her to see how amazing you are, Peter. I wanted h-” Peter doesn’t let him get further.  


* * *

  
  
He doesn't know what Tony is saying at first. Pepper knows? How..  
  
“ _You told her_?” He stands, suddenly needing to be out of Tony's reach, where he can't pull him in a distract him from what he's saying. “You _promised_..” It's barely above a whisper and he feels the tears running down his cheeks, his breath is coming in shallow puffs. Tony looks like he's going to say something, but Peter just takes another step back, shaking his head.  
  
“You said you wouldn't tell and-” He hiccups as he speaks and his hands are shaking as he covers his body, trying to hide himself from Tony's gaze. “You said you wanted me here..”  
  
“You lied to me..” He takes a deep breath, and he can barely see through all of the tears, but he can see the look on Tony's face and he can't stand it, so he turns away. “How do I know you weren't lying when you said you loved me..?”  
  
He doesn't wait for an answer, not wanting to hear what Tony has to say. He grabs his clothes from the floor by the door and his bag from by the elevator, getting dressed on his way down. He has no idea where he's going, but he's taken all he can take for a single day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, feedback is looooooove! We put these boys through a lot this chapter, so we'd love to hear what you think about it all :)


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We hope this makes up for all of the angst we put you through last chapter. It's a little angsty, but it makes up for it at the end :)

Tony wants to plead, wants to beg, tell Peter that he doesn’t understand, he loves him. Of course he loves him, he’s never meant anything so sincerely in his life as he does when he tells Peter he loves him, every time. He wants him here so bad it hurts, but he wants what’s best for Peter even more and so he’ll suffer for it, but he never wanted it to be like this.  
  
But… this is his own fault. He’s stupid, so goddamn stupid and selfish, he told Peter’s biggest secret, all because he’s so unforgivably self absorbed that he just assumed because he tells Pepper everything that meant Peter could, too. He didn’t even ask, now Peter wants nothing to do with him and he’s back where he’s already been far too many times for comfort, in a position where it was his responsibility to treat Peter right, protect him, and all he’s done is let him down and hurt him again.  
  
He wants- he knows they can work this out, but Peter doesn’t want to hear his voice, or look at his face, he wants space and- and that’s what this is all about, isn’t it? Tony can give him some space. He tells himself this as Peter walks out the door with tears streaming down his face and he even believes it until Peter reaches the elevator, then he hears the sound of the doors sliding shut and his heart leaps into his throat, he thinks he might throw up.  
  
Scrambling to his feet, he runs down the hall, calling Peter’s name even though he knows it’s too late. He’s ready to get into his suit and go after Peter, too impatient for the elevator, when his phone chimes. He’d love to ignore it, would do it without a second thought, except it’s an emergency alert that means if he doesn’t go now, people are going to die. The sick thing is he’s still tempted to ignore it.  
  
He tears himself away from impulse and, with a sick-feeling, bitter laugh, grabs his phone off the counter and gets himself suited up.  


* * *

  
  
Peter's dressed, staring at the elevator doors, the sleeve of his sweater soaked from wiping the tears and snot from his face, trying to make himself presentable even though there's pretty much no one in the giant first floor lobby at this time of night. Certainly no one paying any attention to him.  
  
He just stands there, watching, giving the elevator more than enough time to go all the way up and come back, hoping for the doors to open- For Tony to walk out and take him in his arms and just apologize and explain- Tell Peter he's wrong, that he does love him..  
  
“He's not coming, is he?” It's barely a whisper, but he knows Friday hears him.  
  
“ _No, he's not_.” She confirms with a softness in her voice that Peter hasn't heard before.  
  
“Why isn't he coming..?” He asks out loud, more for himself than anything and thankfully Friday doesn't answer him.  
  
Walking outside, the crisp night air is like a punch to his face, colder than it has any right to be for August. He pulls the sleeve of the sweat down over his palms.  
  
“Where should I go?" He walks down the street, just trying to get away, somewhere that Tony can't look out his window and see him.  
  
“ _Your Aunt doesn't live far and the trains are still running in that direction_.” Friday offers helpfully, but Peter just shakes his head.  
  
“I can't go to her..” He blinks back the tears that he'd finally gotten under control. “If she finds out that Tony and I had a fight, she won't let me see him again.”  
  
“ _I can offer you a list of hotels nearby_.” She tries again.  
  
“Just pick one.” He doesn't feel like making a decision, he just wants to go to sleep. Luckily, in New York, there are hotels every few blocks, though Friday does direct him past a few and he doesn't question her. When he steps inside the hotel she's chosen, he's immediately greeted by a friendly, older gentleman.  
  
“Good evening, Mr. Parker. We've arranged your room and as requested, have closed access to our pool to all other guests for the evening. Would you like me to take your bag, sir?”  
  
“No, thank you.” He adjusts the strap on his shoulder and smiles as much as he can muster.  
  
“The elevators are straight ahead, you're in room twelve-fifteen and the pool is on the fourteenth floor. If you need anything at all, please call down and I'll assist you personally.”  
  
“Thank you.” Peter nods, stepping forward and into the elevator. Once the doors are closed, he shifts on his feet.  
  
“I don't think I want to go to the pool..” He's not sure what the man was talking about, but he suspects that Friday made arrangements with them while he was walking and while he appreciates her help, he really, really just wants to go to sleep.  
  
“ _It's a saltwater pool_.” She informs him and he swears he can almost hear her smiling. “I can assure you that their security systems will not be a problem.”  
  
“..Oh.” He bites his lip. He hadn't really thought about it, but of course she knows about him. She was there on the boat, there's no way she didn't know. Actually, that does sound kind of nice.. He decides to skip the twelfth floor when the doors open, pushing the button for the next floor up instead. “You're sure no one can see me?”  
  
“ _I requested that they shut down their cameras for the sake of privacy, but I can interfere with their security feed just in case, if you'd like_.” Peter just nods as he sets his bag down on one of the lounge chairs next to a table of fresh towels and begins to strip down, taking a deep breath.  
  
He wades down into the water, slowly going deeper and deeper, surprised by the warmth of the water. When he changes, he lets himself sink all the way down, resting near the bottom and the pressure around him is more comforting than he thought it would be. He closes his eyes and just floats, trying to forget everything that had happened in the last two hours.  


* * *

  
  
As he speeds over the water, it’s impossible to banish Peter’s words from his mind, not that he tries particularly hard. Once he reaches his destination, he knows he’s going to have no choice but to compartmentalize, put this away to be dealt with when lives aren’t on the line, but for now he’s got time. He deserves to sit in it for the hurt he put behind Peter’s eyes.  
  
It makes him feel physically ill to remember the tears on Peter’s face, the way he’d pushed his hands away when he tried to help because Tony was the one hurting him, exactly what he wanted to be. He keeps telling himself that this was the right thing to do, this is what’s best for Peter, this is what will keep them together, in the long run, but it hardly feels like it matters when he didn’t even get the chance to say goodbye.  
  
The dead-zone is approaching, soon he’ll be officially out of reach for who knows how long, Peter won’t even know where he is until someone, likely Pepper or Happy, tells him. He could- he won’t, but he could, technically, not come back. The risk isn’t high, but it’s always there. He knows that Peter hadn’t wanted to speak to him, wasn’t ready, he doesn’t blame him for it and he wants to give Peter his space, but he doesn’t know when he’ll be back and he just wants to say goodbye. Wants to make sure Peter knows he does love him, just in case.  
  
“FRIDAY, I’ve got a message I need you to transmit to Peter.”  
  
_“Ready when you are, Mr. Stark.”_  
  
Tony takes a deep breath and tries not to think too hard.  
  
“Peter, I’m sorry. I know you probably don’t want to hear my voice right now, but I’m- I don’t know when I’ll see you again, and I didn’t get the chance to say goodbye. I know I messed up, but I don’t want to leave with you thinking I don’t love you. You’re wrong, kid. I might be wrong about- well, everything else, here, but you’re wrong about that. I love you, Peter, I need you to understand that. If- not that it’s likely, but if I don’t come back, I just-”  
  
_“Signal lost. Message failed.”  
_  
“What? No! No, FRIDAY, we don’t enter the dead-zone for another thirteen miles, I have time!”  
  
_“I’m sorry, sir, it appears the reach is further than my systems detected.”  
_  
“Fuck!” Tony screams. He wishes there was something he could hit, something he could destroy, and increases the power of his thrusters.  
  
He can’t do a damn thing right.  


* * *

  
  
When he finally makes it down to his room that night, he finds himself staring out the window, wondering if Friday request a north-facing view so that he couldn't see Stark Tower from his room. He crawls into bed, his hair wetting the pillow and he tries his best to go to sleep, knowing he has to be awake in a few hours.  
  
While it doesn't come easy, it does eventually come and Peter gets a couple of hours of sleep before his alarm is going off. He takes the time to shower and as he's drying himself off, he realizes that the only shirt he has is really not fit to be worn again. He's not sure what he's going to do when there's a knock at his door.  
  
“I have a delivery for you, sir.” The same man from the previous night is standing with a rolling rack to his side, requesting entrance and Peter steps aside, a little in shock, wondering briefly if it was possible for Friday to read his mind.  
  
“I wasn't entirely sure of your size, so I apologize if a few of the items don't fit, but the sales associate insisted they would.” He bids Peter a good day after he insists there is nothing else he can help him with.  
  
“How did you..?” Not that he isn't thankful, but it's a little eerie that she knew exactly what he needed so intuitively, thanks to Tony's design. He feels a pang in his chest as he thinks about how Tony is taking care of him even when he isn't here.  
  
“ _I contacted the store you visited yesterday and requested a rush delivery_.”  
  
“Thanks.” Peter's mind is so on the fritz after everything that happened in the last day and without Friday's help, he knows he would be completely lost. He gets dressed in a simple black t-shirt and dark wash blue jeans, both items fitting him perfectly.  
  
“ _There's a car waiting for you downstairs_.” Peter thanks her as he makes his way outside, recognizing Happy immediately, waiting on the sidewalk for him.  
  
“Good morning, Happy.” Peter greets with a small smile.  
  
“Whatever you say, kid.” Happy grumbles, but Peter catches a smile as he turns around.  
  
At the doctor's office, Peter can't stop watching the door. Tony had mentioned that he booked their appointments together, so he should be walking through the door any minute, but as the time ticks by, he gets less and less sure. When the nurse finally calls him back, he give it one last glance before going back with her. He's never been a big fan of needles, but his mind is so preoccupied he doesn't even notice when she pricks him, drawing several small vials of blood. He sits, waiting for who knows how long before the doctor comes in with a clipboard full of papers, greeting him.  
  
“So, the good news is that your preliminary tests have all come back negative.” The doctor starts with a smile. “I did find a few abnormalities..”  
  
“What does that mean?”  
  
“It means that you're special.” She's still smiling, so Peter's only a little nervous, assuming it's not something bad. “Are you aware of any special abilities?”  
  
Peter's jaw tightens as he realizes what she means, but before he can freak out, she puts her hand on his knee.  
  
“Peter, I don't know if Tony explained to you, but we specialize in treating people with abilities- Inhumans, mutants.. Confidentiality and discretion are very important to us.” He relaxes his face a little as she continues. “What I would like to do is send some samples to our lab. They can do a full work up to gauge the extent of your abilities, then if anything comes up, we'll know exactly how to take care of it.”  
  
“Okay..” Peter nods. He's curious about the extend of his abilities and for some reason he thinks to himself that if Tony trusts these people then so does he, even if he doesn't trust Tony right now.  
  
He spends the rest of the day in bed at the hotel, watching his phone. There are a few times when he thinks about calling Tony, but he remembers what Ms. Potts said to him- He needs to take care of himself. He didn't do anything wrong and as much as it hurts, Tony should be the one to call him. If he really does love Peter, he'll reach out and try to make things right.  
  
When he wakes up late the next morning, he doesn't quite have the motivation to get out of bed. He's got no reason to- No one to see, nowhere to be. He calls downstairs for breakfast and eats without getting up. He spends the day in bed, watching movies and talking to Friday, trying his best not to think about the fact that Tony hasn't so much as texted him.  
  
For dinner, when Peter calls down for food and orders the steak special, the woman on the other end of the line mentions that the special comes paired with a bottle of wine and Peter almost turns it down, telling her he's not old enough, but then he remembers something that Tony said on their first night out in the city. If the money's good enough, they don't looks twice.  
  
He drinks the wine with his dinner, a little sad when he gets to the bottom of the bottle and he only feels a little fuzzy.  
  
“Friday, can you have them send up another bottle, please?” He half expects her to tell him no, or to offer some helpful commentary, but she just does as he asks without judgment. A single glass into the second bottle, it hits him hard and to his surprise, he doesn't feel better- He doesn't feel numb and he didn't forget everything that had happened. He just feels a little dizzy, so he lays down.  
  
“Why hasn't he called me?” Peter asks, the phone sitting on the pillow next to where his head was lying.  
  
“ _I can't say_.”  
  
“Do you think he loves me?” Friday is quiet for a long while and if Peter had any tears left in him, he's sure he would be crying, if only out of frustration.  
  
“ _I'm not sure_..” She hesitates, something that Peter's never heard her do- Like she's thinking. “ _But he's never made me available to anyone else before. When I asked him what I could do for you, he told me to take care of you, by any means necessary_.”  
  
“If he cares about me, why would he lie?” His head is spinning and his eyes are feeling heavy.  
  
“ _I don't know_..”  
  
“..Me either.”  


* * *

  
  
Tony’s gone so naturally it’s up to Pepper to get everything in order for Peter’s move. She would be more annoyed as, despite how it sometimes feels, she’s not actually Tony’s PA anymore, hasn’t been for a long time, now, but what can she say? She’s got a bit of a soft spot for the kid.  
  
Of course, it’s not just that.  
  
Tony’s feelings have seemed… surprisingly sincere. When she’d heard Tony was on his way back from a literal deserted island where he had somehow acquired an underage boy toy, well, she’d been braced for the worst. Understandably, she figures. Peter has exceeded her expectations more than a little, and she finds herself actively hoping that despite the questionable circumstances, he sticks around.  
  
The next few years are going to be rough for them, but Peter seems like he’s got the gumption to stick it out as long as Tony doesn’t have a melt down and try to push him away. It would _not_ be entirely out of character.  
  
Hopefully Tony’s beyond that now, she has faith he can be. Either way, she’d like it if she and Peter could be friends, eventually. She’s likely not his favourite person in the world at the moment, but there’s plenty of time for that to change, and, whether he likes it or not, she is probably the only one who’s going to understand some of what he’s inevitably going to go through with Tony’s various neuroses to discover.  
  
She arranges to have the PR people delay their visit, she can call May later on to coordinate an exact time, but she wants to give Peter some time to settle into his new home before having to deal with that particular headache. Tony is away, so there’s no rush, regardless. The tutor, however, she arranges to have visit on Monday. It’ll probably do Peter some good to have something that’s just his to keep his time occupied.  
  
She idly wonders how their talk went. Clearly Peter must’ve agreed, or she wouldn’t be arranging his move, so it can’t have been too bad. The timing of Tony’s mission is unfortunate, but at least things can’t be going _too_ poorly.  


* * *

  
  
In the morning, Peter's head is throbbing and his mouth is so dry. His head only starts to feel worse as he stands up, moving to grab a bottle of cold water from the mini fridge, chugging half of it at once.  
  
“ _There are aspirin in the restroom_.” Friday mentions without him having to ask.  
  
“Thanks..” He makes a mental note to never drink a whole bottle of wine by himself again and just as he checks the time, his alarm goes off. He scrunches his face as he silences it, laying back on the bed. His stuff is going to be delivered soon and May is expecting him at five, after she gets off work. He's got until then to get himself together and even though it's only ten in the morning, he's not sure if that's enough time.  
  
He can't tell her about their fight.. She's already barely okay with them being together. If she finds out what Tony did, there's no way she'll let them be together.  
  
If Tony even wants to be with you..  
  
He shakes his head, pushing those thoughts out of his mind.  
  
“Friday, can you have my clothes sent to May's?”  
  
Peter checks of the hotel with nothing but his backpack. His head still hurts, but his stomach is growling and he's craving something greasy. By the end of lunch he feels a little better, the food and the fresh air helping clear his head.  
  
“ _Would you like me to call for the car_?” Friday asks as it starts to get a little later in the day.  
  
“Are you kidding? We'd never get there on time. I'll take the train.” He walks to the station, getting on the same train he used to ride with his friends to school. May moved apartments, but she's still in the same neighborhood and Peter doesn't need directions until he steps off the platform.  
  
She must be eager, because when he walks up, she's on the sidewalk waiting for him, pulling him into a tight hug. She leads him up to the apartment, giving him a spare key before showing him around.  
  
“And this is going to be your room. Sorry, it's a mess right now, I thought maybe we could work on it this weekend?” It looks like it's currently being used as an office and for storage, one side filled with a large desk, the other stacked high with boxes and stacks of books.  
  
“Sure.” He smiles, but he knows it's weak. He just doesn't feel well, physically or mentally.  
  
“Your mattress was supposed to be here by now.. if it doesn't show up soon, I'll call the store.”  
  
Thankfully, it does turn up a couple of hours later though there's just barely enough space in the center of the room to put it. Peter doesn't want to complain, he's grateful for her to give up her space for him, but it's just so tight he feels smothered already. He takes a deep breath as he settles in for bed, telling himself it would be better tomorrow after some sorting.  
  
They spend the weekend together and Peter tries to keep his mind off of Tony and it's almost working until May turns the television on while they wait for dinner to be delivered. May's about to turn the channel when a picture of Tony shows up along with the headline 'Business or Pleasure: Tony Stark spotted with DAMAE C.E.O at intimate dinner following merger meeting' scrolling across the bottom of the screen. On the screen, there are several blurry pictures of Tony at a very small table, sitting very close to a very pretty woman and Peter can feel his grip on his emotions starting to slip.  
  
They were supposed to go to Paris together..  
  
“What is he doing in Paris?” May looks over to Peter and shit. She can't know.  
  
“It's just a business meeting.” It hurts so much to say it because he doesn't believe it and he doesn't want to lie to her, but when Tony gets back, he doesn't want May to be mad at him. They'll never make up if May is mad at him.  
  
“That looks awfully friendly for a business meeting..” She sounds skeptical.  
  
“It's an important merger, he's just trying to impress her.” She opens her mouth, but he cuts her off. He cannot keep talking about this or he's going to lose it. “May, it's fine. He knew I was going to be busy here with you. He'll be back soon.” Thankfully, she drops it and changes the channel, but suddenly he's not hungry anymore.  
  
When Tony said he should go live with his aunt, his first instinct was that Tony didn't want him to stay with him anymore, but the more he thought about it, the more he figured maybe Tony just wanted to give May and him a chance to reconnect. He warned Peter that he was going to be busy catching up at work and maybe Tony just didn't want him to feel ignored?  
  
He wanted so badly to believe that, but then why hasn't he called? Or texted? Or anything?  
  
Maybe it's his fault. He'd made it pretty clear he didn't want to hear what Tony said. What if he's waiting for Peter to reach out to him? He excuses himself from the couch, shutting he door to his room behind him as he pulls out his phone. He should just call and apologize for not listening. Yes, Tony lied, but Peter was the one that slammed the door and left. If Tony was waiting for him, of course he wasn't going to call.  
  
Peter's hands are shaking, but he dials Tony's number, his heart fluttering nervously with every passing ring until it goes to voicemail.  
  
“Tony..” He hates how pathetic he sounds. “I know you're probably busy working, but.. If you want to talk, I'm- I guess.. Just call me? I miss you..”  
  
“Friday, will you make sure he gets that message?”  
  
“ _Of course, Peter_.”  
  
May calls him out for dinner and he feels a little bit better knowing that Tony knows it's okay to reach out to him. With the time difference and the work he needs to get done, he knows it might take some time, but he knows Tony will call him.  
  
He spends Monday taking tests, which isn't fun, but it's a good distraction. They're supposed to gauge his overall knowledge so that his tutors know where to start to catch him up on his education. He hadn't even thought about school, but he was really far behind. The last year he completed was when he was twelve.  
  
There are three different tutors, each covering a handful of subjects and they set up a daily schedule that has him spending two hours each day with each of them plus time for breaks, keeping him busy from eight to three, Monday through Friday.  
  
A week in and Peter is starting to get antsy about the fact that he still hasn't heard from Tony and he knows it's probably sort of desperate, but he wants to badly to hear his voice, but all he gets is voicemail again.  
  
“Hi.” His voice is quiet and a little unsure. “I just wanted to see how you're doing.. My tutors say I'm doing really well, so..” There's a long pause. He's not sure what else to say. “If you don't want to talk to me, that's okay, I guess, just.. Let me know.. And I'll stop calling.”  
  
By the same time next week he'd called Tony a handful more times, definitely crying in the last two and at this point he doesn't even care how he sounds. By the time Friday morning rolls around, he doesn't even care how pathetic he seems. He just wants to talk to Tony so that he can stop hurting. Putting a smile on his face in front of May and the tutors is getting to be so fucking hard, he's not sure he can keep up with it anymore.  
  
Peter's just finished rinsing the dishes, loading them into the dishwasher when he hears May at the door, offering greetings. He's been dreading he meeting all week. He knows they're going to ask about Tony and he's going to have to tell them- And May- That they wasted their time because they aren't together anymore and Tony hates him so much he won't even talk to him.  
  
He dries his hands and does his best to seem like he isn't miserable as he walks over to the table where they're sitting.  
  
“Good morning.”  


* * *

  
  
He feels exhausted down to his bones when he finally gets the all clear. He’s free to go home and it’s a good thing he has autopilot because he’s pretty much certain he’d crash into the Atlantic without it. He somehow feels disgusting even through the suit. Intellectually, he’s aware that he isn’t the one covered in blood and dirt, but he always still feels as though he is. His therapist told him the feeling is likely in part a manifestation of his guilt. She was probably right, he hadn’t seen her again.  
  
Flying home normally allows him some time time to decompress, but this time he just can’t quite seem to slip into the right headspace. Every time he thinks of home, of unwinding, he pictures Peter there waiting for him. He has to keep reminding himself that Peter won’t be there. Might never be there again, a horrible voice in the back of his mind reminds him.  
  
Typically, he’s pretty good at silencing that voice, but when he feels like this it’s not so easy.  
  
Still, he tries to remind himself that it was just a fight. A misunderstanding. Peter loves him, they can work through this. He’ll want to work through this. That’s what people do when they’re right for each other, and maybe… maybe he’s not quite right for Peter, not yet, but Peter is right for him and he’ll make sure he lives up to that.  
  
He wonders how Peter’s been settling in, he must be moved by now, back to his studies, finally. Hopefully he’s doing well. He knows that May will take good care of him, knows that Peter will enjoy learning, he’s so damn smart, how could he not?  
  
There’s still a few hours left before he leaves the dead-zone, not to mention the time it will take to get home from that point, and he spends the time thinking about how he’ll apologize to Peter, presuming he’s ready to talk to him. Chocolates, definitely. Maybe not just chocolates, but they’re… romantic, and Peter loves them. So, in some capacity, definitely chocolates.  
  
It’s imagining Peter’s face when he receives them that finally, finally dulls the achingly intense beat of his heart. He’s still nervous, terrified, even, but thinking of the little moments that will, hopefully, come soon sets something in him at ease as he heads home, thrusters at full blast. He doesn’t want to wait a second longer than he has to, no matter what’s waiting for him.  


* * *

  
  
The meeting is almost as boring as it is nerve-wracking, starting with Peter having to sign a stack of paperwork saying that he won't talk about anything confidential that he's seen during his time with Tony. He keeps his mouth shut about them because, up to that point, their fight hasn't been relevant and he's really not looking forward to when they do.  
  
Eventually, they set the paperwork aside and the shorter man pulls out a notebook as he asks Peter to describe their relationship. It feels like everyone is staring at him and he can feel his palms sweating even as May rubs his shoulder, trying to encourage him.  
  
“I..” He doesn't want to say it. “We-” If he says it, then it will be real and he'll have to face it and he just wants to keep pretending, even though it hurts. “We broke up..”  
  
“What? Peter, honey..” He can't look up at her as the tears start stinging his eyes, fingers digging into his pants.  
  
“We had a fight.. That night after dinner a couple of weeks ago.” He sniffs, wiping his nose on the back of his sleeve. “He lied and-” He hiccups, breaking his words up. “Then he left and now he won't talk to me..”  
  
“I thought you said he was just on a business trip?” May hugs him and he nuzzles his face into her sweater, letting the tears flow freely.  
  
“I didn't even know he was gone until I saw it on the news with you.. He didn't tell me, he just left without saying anything.” His shoulders were shaking as he spoke, losing what little composure he had left.  
  
“Oh, Peter.. I'm so sorry..” She rubs his cheek with her thumb, trying to comfort him.  
  
“I'm gonna go lie down..” Peter excuses himself to his bedroom, glad that no one tries to stop him. He curls up on his bed, squeezing his eyes shut as the tears start to flow again.  
  
“ _Incoming message from Tony_.”  
  
Peter blinked, wondering if he'd heard that right. “What?”  
  
“ _I have an incoming message from Tony dated twelve days ago_.”  
  
“Twelve days ago?! Why am I just getting this message now?”  
  
“ _I'm sorry, Peter. It seems he was in a dead zone. I've only just received the transmission_.”  
  
His hands are shaking and he might bite through his lip as hard as his teeth are grinding down on it.  
  
“Play it..”  
  
“Peter, I’m sorry. I know you probably don’t want to hear my voice right now, but I’m- I don’t know when I’ll see you again, and I didn’t get the chance to say goodbye. I know I messed up, but I don’t want to leave with you thinking I don’t love you. You’re wrong, kid. I might be wrong about- well, everything else, here, but you’re wrong about that. I love you, Peter, I need you to understand that. If- not that it’s likely, but if I don’t come back, I just-”

Peter covers his mouth with his hands as he listens to the message, to Tony apologizing, saying he loves him. But..  
  
“Friday, what does he mean 'if he doesn't come back'?” He knows. Deep down, he knows, but he doesn't want to believe it.  
  
“ _I can't say_.” She replies unhelpfully.  
  
“Why not?” He cries, emotions boiling up in him once again.  
  
“ _I'm not able to speak on classified matters. I could tell you the origin on the message, if you'd like_.”  
  
“Okay..” He doesn't understand what that will help, but she wouldn't have mentioned it if it wasn't relevant.  
  
“ _Message originated from Mr. Stark's Mark Forty-Seven Armor_.”  
  
Peter's face twists as she confirms what he'd feared. Tony sent him a message, from his suit, saying he might not be coming back. He wasn't in Paris, he was god-knows-where doing something dangerous and he might not ever come back. Peter might never see him again.  
  
“No..” His lip quivers as he thinks that the last thing he ever said to Tony was calling him a liar and doubting his feelings. “Is he okay?” It's been two weeks, surely whatever mission he was on couldn't take that long unless something had gone wrong..  
  
“ _I can't say_..” She sounds like she truly wishes she could help.  
  
“Can I send him a message? Please, Friday, I need to talk to him..”  
  
“ _I'll try my best to get it to him as soon as possible_.”  
  
He takes a deep breath, but it doesn't stop his voice from shaking as he thinks that Tony might never get his message.  
  
“Tony..” His voice is already cracking. “Why didn't you tell me?” He pressed his palms to his eyes, trying to physically stop the tears. “I t-thought you were in Paris.. That you h-hated me.” Peter sobs against the pillow and he wishes that Tony just hated him, he could live with that if the alternative was Tony possibly dying.  
  
“Please come back to me.. I can't lose you. Not like this..” It takes him a moment to clear his throat and even so, all he can manage is a broken whisper. “Please.. I love you, Tony.. So, so much.. I can't do this without you-” His voice cuts off with another sob, realizing how true that statement is as he says it. He really can't live without Tony. He spent so much time alone and now that he know what it feels like to love- To be loved, living without Tony seems almost physically impossible.  
  
“ _He'll be all right, Peter. He always is_.”  
  
“You don't know that!” He chokes on his words as he yells. “Just stop.. I can't-” He stops trying to speak, instead just holding the button on the side of the phone until it shuts down.  
  
“Peter..” May knocks on his door, but he doesn't have the strength to tell her to go away. She sits on the edge of his bed, rubbing his back as he cries so hard he's practically gasping for air, hands clenches to his chest like he's having a heart attack.  
  
“You need to breath, Peter..” She's right, but he can't.. It feels like there's something inside him, wrapping around his heart and his lungs, squeezing the life out of him.  
  
“I- I c-can't.”  
  
She lays down next to him on the bed, pressing against his back, wrapping an arm around him. “Come on, sweetie, just breathe with me..”  
  
He just needs to know Tony's okay, to hear his voice.. Then he can breathe again.  


* * *

  
  
It seems a little early for Peter’s meeting with the PR people to be wrapped up already, so Pepper is immediately suspicious when her phone rings with their identification popping up on her screen.  
  
“Hello, is there a problem?”  
  
“Hello, Ms. Potts. There’s not a problem, exactly, it’s just-” The PR person on the other line sounds unsure. Not a good sign. “I wasn’t aware they’d broken up. I’m not sure what you’d like us to do here?”  
  
Pepper can already feel the beginnings of a migraine starting to take hold behind her temples.  
  
They what?” She demands, voice flat.  
  
“Young Mr. Parker appears to be under the impression that Mr. Stark is in Paris, the same story as the cover we spun for the media. Apparently, there was a fight before Mr. Stark left, they haven’t spoken since.”  
  
The night before Tony left, clearly the conversation about Tony hadn’t gone well. Tony must have just- left. The anger rising in Pepper’s chest is enough to make her heart beat dangerously hard. What the hell had he been thinking? That he could just leave? Without a word to Peter, or even a word to her so that she might inform him what had happened? Has he really learned nothing, the last few years?  
  
“How is he?” Pepper sighs, keeping her anger at bay until she can unleash it on the person who actually deserves it.  
  
“Not particularly well. It seems he’s shut himself in his room. We can wait if you’d like, but-”  
  
“No, no.” Pepper dismisses the idea quickly. “Thank you for letting me know about the… situation. You go ahead and leave, I’ll handle this.”  
  
“Very well, Ms. Potts.”  
  
The call ends with brief goodbyes, and Pepper is damn near seething as she calls Tony.  


* * *

  
_“Mr. Stark, you have six incoming messages from Peter Parker.”_  
  
Tony’s heart tightens as FRIDAY’s voice pulls him from the daze he’d been in, retreating into his mind for the bulk of the flight home. He’s nervous, he desperately wants to hear Peter’s voice, but he’s terrified of what he’ll say.  
  
“Play them. Oldest first.” Waiting won’t help a thing.  
  
The first message is from shortly after he left and when Peter’s small, slightly tinny voice rings out all Tony can feel is an ache deep in his chest because Peter sounds so goddamn sad and _he_ did that. It’s just not fair, not at all. Peter isn’t the one who screwed up, at yet he’s the one who had to reach out. Tony wouldn’t have wasted a second when Peter called him if he’d just been there.  
  
The messages keep playing and he’s starting to feel ill. By the time he reaches the fifth one, left not even forty-eight hours ago, Peter is openly crying into the phone. At first he’d tried to stifle the sounds, but it’s evident he’s lost the will to try, at this point. Tony feels like the worst shit in the world, nauseous with the way he’s been hurting Peter even when he’s been nowhere near him.  
  
Peter’s begging him to just call him, at least tell him that it’s over, and Tony wants to scream that it’s not. It’s not, Tony won’t ever leave unless Peter wants him gone, and by some miracle, it sounds quite the opposite of that. If he’s lucky Peter means it and it’s not just a weak moment, though Tony won’t be able to blame him either way.  
  
He’s about to listen to the last one, not that they’re telling him anything new at this point, it’s just to torture himself, suffer what he deserves for what he’s put Peter through, FRIDAY’s voice cuts in, muting the message.  
  
_“Incoming call from Pepper Potts.”_  
  
Tony swallows hard and exhales slow, trying to gather himself so he can answer the phone.  
  
“Answer it.” The display indicates that FRIDAY has. “Pepper-”  
  
“What did you do?!” Pepper growls into the phone, blindsiding Tony with her unexpected anger.  
  
“I- what? I don’t know?”  
  
“Oh, no? Then would you mind explaining to me why Peter thinks you’re in Paris? Newly single?” And- yep. There’s that sick feeling, again.  
  
It dawns on him as he listens to Pepper speak that Peter doesn’t know. He’d been so distracted by the misery of Peter’s messages that he hadn’t even registered what they meant, Peter’s been begging him to call because he doesn’t realize he _can’t_. No one told him, he can’t even be that angry because why would they? Because as far as anyone knew, Tony would.  
  
“Oh, god.” He chokes out. “Oh god, oh god, Pepper, I screwed up.”  
  
“Yeah, I’ll say.”  
  
“No- Pepper, you don’t get it. We didn’t break up- at least not- we might’ve, by now, but we didn’t then. We got in a fight and Peter left, then I got the call-”  
  
“Tony.” Pepper tries to interrupt, but Tony barrels on.  
  
“I wasn’t even thinking I just left, I thought someone else would tell him! Why didn’t anyone else tell him?! I-”  
  
“Tony!” Pepper shouts, voice sharp. He goes quiet. “Don’t spiral. You can’t be far away now, can you?”  
  
“No.” Tony breathes, panic still clutching at his heart, reluctant to let go. “No, I’m only a few hours out.”  
  
“Good, so don’t spiral, just go fix this.” Fix this. Pepper’s right. He needs to fix this. Even if- even if there’s nothing to be fixed, even if Peter doesn’t want him back after everything he’s just put him through, he at least deserves an apology. Deserves to know it definitely isn’t on him.  
  
They end the call and Tony immediately calls Peter. He’s already set a course for May’s apartment, but he can’t wait, _Peter_ can’t wait. There’s no answer, it doesn’t even ring, just straight to voicemail. Tony tries to ignore the way his heart clenches in his chest, nothing bad has happened just because Peter’s phone is off. Maybe he’s sleeping, it’s late enough, it’d make sense.  
  
He’s tempted to ask FRIDAY to play Peter’s last message, but the truth is he doesn’t think he’ll keep it together if he does. He’s still got far enough to go until he hits the skyline that he could definitely spiral, it’s better to hold on to what little composure he has until he gets there.  
  
It’s closer to dawn than dusk by the time he finally reaches New York.  
  
That doesn’t deter him, though. He’s standing outside of May’s apartment door, still in his full armour with only the face plate up, and something in him is beginning to settle. Everything still feels urgent, but the knowledge that Peter is right there, on the other side of the door, finally, soothes something in him when he knocks.  


* * *

  
  
May sits at the kitchen table, hunched over a hot cup of tea, trying to soothe the headache she'd gotten from crying alongside Peter all night. A cup of tea and then bed is the plan until she hears a knock on the door, glancing at the clock to verify it actually is as late as she thought it was.  
  
Stepping over to the door, she opens it, taking one look at Tony Stark standing in front of her before slamming it shut again. Another, more insistent knock rings out and she grinds her teeth before she turns, opening the door again. The man looks like he's going to speak, but she holds up her hand giving him a look and he gets the point, closing his mouth without a sound.  
  
“No. You didn't want to talk when Peter called you over and over these past two weeks, you don't get to talk now.” She's spitting venom at him, her voice barely above a hiss. “ _How dare you_.”  
  
“He had _nothing_ \- Do you understand that? He had _nothing_ and he still gave you _everything_. He gave you his heart and his soul and you _left him_.” She can feel her own tears starting to well up again as she recalled the last twelve hours with Peter and how terrible they had been- Crying so hard he looked like he was going to be sick, his entire body shaking, even after he finally fell asleep only an hour ago.  
  
He tries to cut in, but she just shoves him despite the fact that there's no chance she's going to move him in his armor, not wanting to hear his excuses. “I don't care why! I don't care if you were off saving the world! I don't give a shit- You don't get to do that to him!” She takes a step back to the doorway.  
  
“You sure as hell don't get to hurt him like that again.” She shuts the door, walking away with no intention of opening it again. She leaves her tea on the table, ignoring it in favor of going straight to bed, too exhausted by the day to wait for her headache to leave before sleeping.  


* * *

  
  
There's a dull throbbing still behind his eyes when he wakes up to an alarm he definitely didn't set and he wants nothing more than to shut it off and roll back over, but Friday's voice stops him.  
  
“ _You have somewhere to be Peter._ ”  
  
“I don't want to go anywhere.” He mumbles, not having the heart to turn her off again now that he was more calm.  
  
“ _Have I failed you, Peter?_ ”  
  
“What?” He rolls over, looking at the phone with a confused look.  
  
“ _My primary directive has been to take care of you. Have I not done that?_ ”  
  
“Of course you have..” He's a little hurt that the A.I. would even ask that question.  
  
“ _Have I not given you everything you've needed? Everything you've asked for?_ ”  
  
“Friday, what-”  
  
“ _I need you to do something for_ me _, Peter_.”  
  
He swallows. He really can't say no.. “Okay.”  
  
“ _Go._ ”  
  
“Where?”  
  
“ _I'll guide you._ ”  
  
He sighs, staring up at the ceiling for a moment before pushing the covers aside, stepping out of the bed with absolutely no enthusiasm. He confirms with Friday that he has enough time to take a shower, wanting to wash away the sweat and tears clinging to his skin before he goes out into the world.  
  
As h sits on the train, he realizes just how much he hates being surrounded by people- It just amplifies how alone he feels, reminding him that the only person he has now is May. It's just the two of them now..  
  
“Friday, where are we going?”  
  
“ _Trust me, Peter_.”  
  
He sighs, leaning his head against the window. He just wants to go home and sleep for the rest of his life so he can't feel anything. Part of him wants to run away.. Just dive into the ocean and never come back, but he can't do that. He can't leave May, so he's stuck here, living in a world he doesn't understand- Hell, that he doesn't even really like all that much now that he doesn't have someone to share it with.  
  
“ _Get off at the next stop._ ” Friday instructs him and he doesn't argue, he just gets ready, standing and making his way to the door. He's so ready to just get this over with already. When he sees the sign for the aquarium across the street, he has an idea about what she might be up to.  
  
“This isn't going to make me feel better..” Sure, it had worked the first time, when he was feeling homesick and a little lost, but this was different. You can't just fix this kind of pain with a field trip.  
  
“ _Trust me._ ”  
  
He heads for the ticket counter, but she redirects him, insisting that it's all right he just walk through the doors. He follows her instructions because there's no one there anyway and he just doesn't have the energy to argue.  
  
Walking down the corridor and up several sets of stairs, it's dark except for the light coming from the water and Friday tells him to go through a door marked 'employees only'. He hesitates, he shrugs and does as she says, doubtful anyone will care to stop him. Walking down a long, winding path, water on either side of him underneath, he realizes he's above one of the tanks. He smiles a little when a big, blue fish swims under his feet playfully.  
  
The hallways opens to a large room and he gazes out across the water, watching the movement below and the color of the coral peaking through, breath freezing in his lungs as his eyes stop on the only person he's seen since he stepped into the building.  
  
“Tony..”  
  
He runs over to him, too relieved that he's alive to remember how _angry_ he is at what he did as he leaps into the man's arms, almost knocking them both into the water as he wraps his arms around Tony's shoulders, holding him close.  
  
“Oh god, Tony.. I thought you were dead, I'm so sorry- I love you so much..” He rambles as the tears begin to fall, all the things he's wanted to say to Tony but hadn't gotten the chance, thinking he never would again. “Please, don't leave me again, please..”  


* * *

  
  
This is definitely the most nervous he’s been in _years_. He sincerely can’t remember with any real clarity when the last time was that he felt like this. His damn palms are sweating and he can’t stop feeling like the box of chocolates he’s holding is just plain stupid. They were the most expensive ones he could find and they’re probably some weird, pretentious flavours that won’t even be good but Tony felt too guilty to spend any less.  
  
He hears the echo of a door opening where he can’t see and immediately his heart starts hammering. Christ, he wants to see Peter so bad. Even if this is just another misstep, he doesn’t care, he just needs to _see_ him.  
  
Still, he’s more than a little terrified of what the boy’s reaction will be.  
  
Peter rounds the corner and freezes as soon as he sees him. For a moment, they both stay that way, too overwhelmed by the sight of each other to move, and then Peter is running and Tony drops the stupid box just in time for the younger boy to crash into him hard enough to knock the breath out of his lungs.  
  
They stumble back, just managing to stay upright, and Tony’s eyes slip shut with palpable relief as Peter’s words wash over him. He knows they’re holding each other too tight, but he quite literally never wants to let go. Never wants Peter out of his sight, his reach, ever again.  
  
“I won’t.” He promises, burying his face in Peter’s hair. “I’ll never leave you again, not like that. Christ- Peter. You should hate me. I’m so sorry.” He pulls back just enough to take hold of Peter’s face, not daring to kiss him, not sure if he’s allowed, anymore. He’s well aware there are overwhelmed tears stinging at the corners of his eyes, not quite falling, but he won’t make any effort to hide them. He wants Peter to know how much he means everything he says.  
  
“I love you. I’m so sorry, Peter. I should never have left with things like they were, without _telling you_ where I was going. I love you more than anything, you understand that, right? Please tell me you do. I just-” Even if Peter doesn’t feel the same, anymore, that’s not what he needs most. What he needs is for Peter to know he loves him. “I just need you to know that.”  


* * *

  
  
Peter nods because he _does_ believe when Tony says he loves him.  
  
“I know, I know.. I thought-” He takes a breath because it's just so much he can barely keep up. “I thought you didn't want to talk to me..” He pulls back from Tony just enough to rub his face on his sleeve. “Then I got your message yesterday and I didn't know if you were alive and I didn't want the last thing I said to you-”  
  
His voice breaks completely as Tony pulls him back against his chest and he clings on so tight he knows it must be painful, but he feels like if he loosens his grip Tony might slip away again and he just _can't_.  


* * *

  
  
Peter’s words break off into a barely suppressed sob and Tony pulls him in tight again, he can feel Peter’s fingers bruising his back but he doesn’t care, he even appreciates it. He’d much rather have bruises put there by Peter than anything else.  
  
“I’m so sorry, Peter. I was an idiot. When you left I wanted to go after you, I started to, but then I got an emergency alert and- Jesus, Peter, there were lives on the line and I _still_ almost went after you, I swear.”  
  
Tony has to take a moment to collect himself, squeezing Peter tight. He can’t get too caught up in things, right now, he owes Peter an explanation.  
  
“I should have called you right away but I just- I don’t know. I was afraid, I knew you didn’t want to talk to me, and I _know_ that’s not a good enough excuse, I didn’t do the right thing, I’m sorry. I assumed someone would tell you where I was, it didn’t even occur to me- I should have realized no one would. Why would they? They’d all thought I would tell you myself. I should have, you deserve so much better, Peter.”  
  
At that point Tony can’t speak anymore. He buries his face in Peter’s hair again, taking deep breaths. The scent of him is comforting and it gives Tony the push to say what he wishes he’d said that night.  
  
“Peter, I know I should have explained myself better when I brought up you moving to May’s, but I swear I never _wanted_ you to leave. It’s just- the way we’ve been, the way _I_ ’ _ve_ been, buying you everything, more than you ever asked for or needed- it’s, I’m making myself the centre of your life and that’s not fair. You deserve the chance to build a life for yourself.”  
  
“And- maybe you could have done that with me but, let’s be honest, I know myself, _you_ know me, I’m always going to want to spoil you and- shit, I probably always will. Something had to give. I’m sorry I hurt you. I hope you’re happy at May’s, at least?”  


* * *

  
  
Peter listens to Tony and it all makes sense, but that doesn't make it any less painful.  
  
“I understand _why_ , I just..” Everything in Peter's body is screaming for him to hold onto Tony, but now that the relief of seeing him, that he's all right, is starting to wear off, all of the emotions he's been holding in for the last two weeks are flooding him. He pulls his arms back in, rubbing his cheeks as he steps out of Tony's grasp.  
  
“You didn't even think about me.. You just made a decision and you didn't even think about how it might hurt me. Do you know how worthless that makes me feel?” Tony opens his mouth to speak, but Peter cuts him off. “No. Let me finish. Please..”  
  
“You have to understand, Tony.. I don't _have_ anything to give you, I only have _me_ and I'll give you all of me- I will. _I want to_. But.. I want all of you too. Not your money and your fancy things, just _you_.” He reaches out to touch Tony's chest softly.  
  
“When you say you love me, it's not just a feeling, it's a promise.” He looks up at Tony, pleading with his eyes for the man to understand. “I have to be able to trust you and.. I don't know if I do.”  


* * *

  
  
Tony feels the loss of Peter in his arms acutely, but he doesn’t try to stop him from stepping back, instead focusing on what Peter is saying. When Peter tells him he made him feel worthless he has to physically bite down on his cheek to stop himself from telling Peter how far from the truth that is, this isn’t his time to speak, it’s Peter’s.  
  
Peter lays a hand over his chest and when he stops speaking Tony reaches up to intertwine their fingers, gripping his hand as he takes a steadying breath, allowing himself to fiddle nervously with Peter’s fingers in his own as he speaks.  
  
“You’re right,” He sighs. “I never should have made a decision about your well being without actually talking to you about it, that wasn’t- I won’t make any more decisions that effect you without talking to you, never again. Saying I was doing what I did because you needed more autonomy then denying you the chance to have any was just bullshit, Peter. I’m sorry.”  
  
“You are everything to me, alright? I-” Tony cuts himself off as he’s about to say ‘I don’t _want_ anything else from you’, hearing the reflection of the words Peter’s been repeating for weeks but he hasn’t truly been understanding. He’s fairly certain the chagrin must show on his face, it certainly feels like it does. “Oh.”  
  
He swallows hard, processing this latest realization. Peter has been far more patient with him than he deserves, really. “I’m not always good at sharing myself with people,” He starts slowly. “I buy things to overcompensate, I know that, but Peter, I want to give you everything, alright? I can’t promise all of my stupid hang-ups are going to go away overnight, but if you still want me I’ll make sure you have me. I’ll get there, no holding back, I swear. I _will_ get there with you. I want that, more than anything.”  
  
Coming to the part of Peter’s words that had hurt the most to hear, he thinks about letting go of Peter’s hand, but he can’t quite bring himself to do it. “If you don’t trust me, that’s my own fault. You trusted me with everything and I screwed it up, I know I have to earn it back, I promise that I can. I will. Alright? Everything- no more trying, Peter, I swear, everything I’m telling you, I’ll do it. No half-measures.”  
  
He’s fairly certain there are tremors building through his hands in anticipation of the next thing he has to say and he lets go of Peter’s hand gently, not wanting him to feel in any way trapped when he brings it up.  
  
“I never should have told Pepper about your powers. There was no excuse for that, Peter. That was- Jesus, I can’t think of anything about that that wasn’t a terrible thing to do from the ground up. I wasn’t thinking and I swear I’ll never be that careless with you again. Even-” He has to pause so his voice doesn’t break, he doesn’t want anything to take away from this. “Even if we’re not together. No matter what happens.”  


* * *

  
  
He listens intently to Tony's words and they sound so genuine and he's just missed him so much that he can't help but run his hand up to his cheek before wrapping around the back of his neck. He pulls Tony in and despite the wetness on his face, Tony accepts his lips eagerly. The kiss reminds him of their first, the desperation he can feel from Tony at having thought he'd lost Peter and Peter, so frantically trying to show Tony that he's _here_.  
  
“I want to be with you..” He back away just enough to speak. “And I want to trust you.” He tilts his head to look up at Tony. “But I can't go through that again- I just can't.” He's not sure he can survive feeling like that again and it's not fair to have put May through seeing him like that even the once, much less twice. It's going to be hard enough to get her to forgive Tony even now.  
  
“But I forgive you.” He can almost feel the weight shifting off of Tony's shoulders as he says it. “I hope you can forgive me too..” Tony looks at him like he has no idea what he's talking about. “I should have listened- Let you explain. If I hadn't stormed out, none of this would have happened.”

* * *

 

When Peter pulls him in for a kiss Tony can’t help falling apart, just a little. Kissing back just a bit too rough, too messy to be anything but desperate. He can’t bring himself to be sorry when Peter is just as frantic.  
  
Peter tells him he wants to be with him, still, tells him he forgives him, and the vice in Tony’s chest, that’s been growing tighter for weeks, finally, finally loosens its grip.  
  
“I’ll never put you through anything like that again. I swear.” He promises when Peter pulls back to speak. “Of course I forgive you, that’s not even- you couldn’t have known I would have to leave.” He wants to insist that Peter’s not at fault at all here, because really, he’s not, not compared to Tony, but it isn’t a competition and he doesn’t want to seem like he’s trying to martyr himself, or risk making Peter feel guilty.  
  
He brings his hand up to stroke over Peter’s jaw, feeling half undone that he’s _allowed_ to still when a part of him had been so certain he’d lost him for good.  
  
“Come home with me? Just for tonight? I won’t- we don’t have to have sex, I wouldn’t expect you to be comfortable with that right away. I’ll even sleep on the damn couch if it makes you feel better, I just _need_ to keep you close, know you’re okay.”  
  
Peter opens his mouth to answer right away but Tony cuts him off.  
  
“Before you say yes! I know this isn’t the best timing, since we just talked about the fact that I need to lay off a bit- a lot, but- I did buy you this aquarium before I knew that conversation was going to happen, so. We should probably use it?” He nods towards the forgotten box of chocolates on the floor. “Also, chocolate? It was too expensive and it’s probably awful.” He grins a little, tentative.  


* * *

  
  
Peter leans into Tony's touch, smiling a little at the idea of going home with Tony and he's about to tell him that he really wants to when Tony tells him what he did.  
  
“You bought.. The aquarium?” Tony shrugs and smiles at him and he can't help but laugh because it _is_ too much, but it just shows Peter how desperate he had been to win him back and even though it's excessive, it's also kind of endearing. He looks down into the water and smiles.  
  
“No cameras?” Tony shakes his head and Peter steps, slipping his shirt off of his head while he kicks off his shoes, followed quickly by his pants before he dives in leaving Tony standing there on the platform.  
  
“You coming in?” Peter kicks his feet under the water as he raises his hands, threatening to splash the man. Tony just grins down at him as he starts to unbutton his shirt and he only gets about half way through before Peter realizes he has something on underneath. By the time he's done stripping, it's pretty clear that he'd planned this entire thing very thoroughly because what he's wearing under his clothing is a wetsuit.  


* * *

  
  
Peter takes it well and Tony can’t help feeling a little giddy and a lot relieved when starts getting undressed. He’s still sore, still tired, but having the air cleared, knowing Peter still wants him, it’s a little ridiculous how much better he feels already. He glances up when Peter threatens to splash him and can’t resist laughing at the look on his face when he notices that Tony has come prepared.  
  
What can he say? He needed a little optimism to get him through the morning. It seemed like the right move at the time, and Peter’s smile makes it more than worth the discomfort.  
  
He grabs his breather and his goggles from his pocket and gets striped down to his wet suit, jumping in before Peter has the chance to splash him. Even with the wet suit he can’t help cursing with his first breath as he surfaces. It is _painfully_ cold and Peter is mainly just laughing at him.  


* * *

  
  
Peter swims under the surface, revelling in the weightless feeling, not only from the water, but from knowing that he and Tony were going to be okay. Maybe they weren't there just yet, but they would get there, he's sure of it. When Tony joins him under the water, it's a little surreal. Even though he's just in a wet suit, using a breathing apparatus, there's something about it that makes Peter's heart flutter.  
  
Until now, it's been Peter leaving his world, living with Tony in his, but now.. Tony had come to him. He's trying to make Peter feel at home, to do anything he can to make him happy and it means everything to him- Not because it's expensive or over the top, but because it's so thoughtful. It makes Peter think that Tony really does understand what he needs and from their relationship and _that_ is what makes him sure they'll be okay. Because Tony is trying and that's all Peter can ask.  
  
He guides them to the bottom and Tony waves his arms to keep himself planted on the bottom of the tank as Peter swims circles around him, watching him. He moves closer, his tail wrapping around Tony's legs as he pulls him close, throwing an arm around his shoulder. His other hand brushes Tony's hair aside, watching how it floats before trailing down his cheek, fingers stopping to rest on the small device between Tony's lips as he looks him in the eye before slipping it out, dropping it.  
  
Peter leans forward, connecting their lips, overcome with emotion as Tony _trusts him_ enough to let him. There's so much water above them an Tony's life is literally in his hands- There's no way he could make it up to the surface in time without Peter's speed, but he's kissing Peter so slowly, like he couldn't care less that there's no air.  
  
Like Peter _is_ his air.  
  
Peter pulls back, smiling before grabbing him by the waist, shooting for the surface and when they break, Tony takes a deep breath, pulling his mask away. Peter gives him a moment before kissing him again, a little more hurriedly.  
  
“Let's go home?”  


* * *

  
  
Watching Peter in the water, being with him in the water, it shows Tony just how much he’s missed. He’d known, on some level, that Peter probably missed the water, but it’s sinking in now that it’s more than that, more than just homesickness. Peter has been missing a part of himself.  
  
He’s going to make sure he never has to miss it again. He’s already made a point of having information gathered about their island, Peter’s island, and he’s going to make sure he looks into it sooner than later.  
  
Peter guides them down to the bottom and Tony follows, feeling near bliss. It’s hard to even know where to look, the smile on Peter’s face, the glimmer of his scales, the way he seems so much more at ease here, like this, than on land. It’s almost too much.  
  
The weight of the water over him makes pulling each breath through his breather more of a task, but he doesn’t feel nervous when Peter wraps himself around him and slips it away. Peter leans in and it’s unbelievably easy to sink into the kiss, the feeling of Peter against him. Under the water like this, there’s almost no sound, the light is unfocused, the water leaves him feeling weightless, everything in his world, in this moment, feels like it comes down to the boy in his arms and it’s impossible not to languish in it.  
  
When Peter brings them to the surface and asks if he wants to go home, Tony finds he wants little else in the world.  
  
They don’t waste time, Tony gets dressed while Peter waits for his tail to give way to his legs. It takes a little longer for Peter to get dressed afterwards, Tony will admit that’s mostly his fault. He has a hard time keeping his hands to himself. It’s not new, and it’s especially bad when only a few hours ago he’d been worried he’d never be allowed to touch Peter like this again.  
  
By the time they stumble out of the elevator and into the apartment, Tony knows what he wants.  
  
There’s need burning under his skin, nearly painful. He slips his hands up under Peter’s shirt as they make their way down the hall, paying next to no attention to where they’re going. Now that his hands are on Peter’s skin he needs more, it feels impossible to think of anything else. They make it to the bedroom and Tony’s lips are stinging from the intensity of Peter’s mouth on his. When he pulls back just enough to tug Peter’s shirt over his head, he doesn’t look much better if the swollen state of his lips is anything to go by.  
  
Peter’s nails scrape over his chest as he reels Tony back in, working his buttons open with no patience to spare. Tony couldn’t care less when one or two buttons pop off entirely with his haste to get them undone. They barely break their kiss when he tugs the undershirt over his head roughly and Tony doesn’t waste a second, burying his face in Peter’s neck as he pushes him back towards the bed.  
  
“Christ, Peter, I love you. I can’t even tell you- I missed you. So damn much.”  
  
He pushes Peter down just enough that he’s seated on the edge of the bed, already reaching out for Tony as he works his belt open and gets his trousers off, crawling up to straddle Peter’s thighs in just his briefs, savouring the rough scrape of his jeans against his skin, though he craves skin to skin contact more. He takes Peter’s face into his hands and kisses him as thoroughly as he knows how, allowing himself the time to linger in it before he pulls back.  
  
“I want to give you everything.” He tells Peter, quiet, but not uncertain. “All of me. Not just figuratively.” Peter’s eyes are blown wide with lust and it’s not- he doesn’t look entirely certain of what Tony is saying. The older man grins and leans in to nip at his lips again.  
  
“I want you to fuck me, Peter.” He says low against his lips, pressing one more kiss to them before he pulls back. “You’ll be the first one, the _only_ one. Think you’re up to it, kid?” He asks, grinding down against Peter, where he can feel that he is most definitely _up to it_. It has the added benefit of distracting him from the ache in his chest, heart beating just a little too hard to ignore. He wants this, he trusts Peter with his life, with everything, but that doesn’t mean it’s easy for him. There’s a reason he’s never done this before.  


* * *

  
  
Peter stares at Tony, eyes wide as he draws in a slow breath. He'd mentioned wanting to be on top before, but he had no idea what kind of significance it held to Tony. Honestly, he didn't think there was much Tony hadn't done, but apparently he had been wrong. In his entire life, Tony had never trusted or loved anyone enough to give them this part of him, but here he was, offering it to him and if he weren't so turned on he would probably cry.  
  
Tony is grinding down on him and his hands reach out to touch Tony's thighs as he cranes his neck, kissing him slowly, but deeply. His fingers are shaking against Tony's skin as he wraps his arms around his backside, using his strength to lift him with ease and Tony just clings to him, their lips never parting. Peter turns them around, Tony's legs wrapped tightly around him as he crawls up onto the bed on his knees, laying Tony down gently, hands running up and down his body before he sits back to undo his own pants.  
  
He can feel Tony's body trembling and he wonders if he seemed so nervous during _his_ first time. He leans down, kissing his way across and down Tony's chest, determined to help him relax the best way he knows how, the same way that Tony helped him. As his tongue laps at Tony's cock, the man's hands find their regular spot in his hair, but there's no force behind his grip- Just the comfort of a familiar position.  
  
Tony groans as he pulls off of him, but he doesn't go far, resting his head on Tony's inner thigh. He rubs his thumb just below Tony's balls, looking up at him as he licks his lips.  
  
“Is this-” He takes another breath, trying to calm his voice. He wants nothing more than to make Tony feel good and to take care of him. He wants to give Tony all he pleasure that had been given to him, but he's not sure if Tony wants him to or not. “Can I?”  


* * *

  
  
It’s always just a little thrilling to be reminded of the way Peter could definitely push him around if he wanted to, made even more exciting by his usually sweet countenance. Maybe it should make him more nervous, but it has exactly the opposite effect. There’s something more than a little relaxing about handing the reigns over to someone else he trusts, and he’s certain he’s never trusted anyone as much as he does Peter.  
  
He’s sure things won’t go perfectly, but that’s not what he’s after. He just wants to let Peter lead for a while, feel him everywhere. Make sure he knows just how much Tony _does_ want to give him everything, both literally and figuratively.  
  
Of course, that doesn’t necessarily mean he’s not nervous. As someone with a general need to be in control of exactly how and when he’s touched ninety-eight percent of the time, trusting someone in this particular way has just never been on the table for him. Even now, when he’s sure he wants it, when the surrender of control feels so _good_ , there’s a part of him that can’t let go of the anxiety lingering in his chest.  
  
Peter slips down between his legs and Tony lets himself sink into the feeling of it, focusing entirely on Peter’s warm mouth and soft hair until he can push most conscious thought from his mind. When Peter pulls away he’s just grateful he doesn’t whine, and he doesn’t mind one bit when he makes it clear he wants to eat Tony out.  
  
“ _Yes.”_ Tony says emphatically. “Jesus, I’m definitely not going to stop you.”  
  
Peter slips a little further down the bed, and he looks just a touch nervous. Tony remembers he’s likely never done this and reaches up behind himself to grab a cushion.  
  
“Hold on.”  
  
He lifts his hips enough that he can slip it below them, shifting until he gets just the right position, then brings his legs up a little more, spreads them a little further, exposing himself as well as he can comfortably manage. Peter may be unreasonably flexible, but unfortunately Tony has aged well past anything comparable, already able to feel the strain on his legs and back, but not particularly bothered.  
  
“Trust me, kid, I’m not going to mind anything you do. Don’t worry.”  


* * *

  
  
Tony readies himself and Peter is so glad for that because as much as they've done together, now that he's in control, his mind is on the verge of going blank. He tells himself to stop thinking about it so much and just do what he likes, looking down at the way Tony has exposed himself and his throat goes dry. He's tasted Tony plenty, usually while he's blowing him, just as another way to tease the man as he gets close, but it's never been his sole focus and he really, really wants it to be good for Tony.  
  
Peter rests his hands on the backs of Tony's thighs, steadying himself as he places soft kisses against his trembling skin, smiling a little at how he wasn't the only nervous one. Finally, Peter's lips meet Tony's hole and he lets out a hot breath before flicking his tongue out, barely grazing the surface.  
  
He can feel Tony's muscles tightening under his grip as he gets more comfortable, licking and lapping slowly and lazily. When he reaches up to stroke Tony, he's a little surprised to find how wet he is already and it's like flipping a switch in him- All of the hesitance and insecurity is gone as he presses his tongue inside, twisting and curling it. He curls his tongue and sucks and he smiles as Tony's toes dig into the blanket.  
  
His own cock is throbbing between his legs, the ache only made worse by the filth spewing from Tony's mouth as he licks into him more firmly and he barely even realizes he's rutting against the bed. The sound Tony makes when Peter slips a finger inside next to his tongue is almost enough to make him come and he has to stop, pulling away, sitting back on his heels to collect himself.  
  
Peter takes advantage of the view, eyes raking over Tony's body as he continues to finger him, his other hand running up over the damp skin of his chest. Peter licks his lips and smiles down at the man.  
  
“Tell me what you want..”  


* * *

  
  
Peter’s tongue slips inside him and his cock aches. He feels his anxieties dissipating and giving way to want with each thrust of the kid’s tongue and finger. It takes him off guard how easy it is to get lost in it and he doesn’t make any effort to stop the filth he’s feeling from falling past his lips, enjoying the way that even like this it makes Peter squirm down into the mattress. He can’t actually remember the last time he got hard this fast, but something about the mere thought of Peter being the _only_ one ever to be inside him does it for him more than words can say.  
  
Peter pulls back, leaving just a finger inside of him, and he doesn’t whine but it’s a near thing.  
  
“Tell me what you want..”  
  
Tony nearly laughs. What does he want? What _doesn’t_ he want, with Peter looking at him like that. He considers the question. Honestly, he’d very much like to fuck up into Peter’s mouth until he comes and then let Peter fuck him when he’s feeling slow and relaxed with orgasm, but the truth is he’s not sure he’s got two in him, these days, and he _really_ wants to see if he can come with Peter inside of him. He suspects so.  
  
“I want you to hurry up and fuck me before I come on your face.” He huffs, half laughing, half warning. Maybe a little begging. Peter’s eyes light up and he decides maybe it wouldn’t hurt to let the begging reign a little more.  
  
He brings his legs up and forward to wrap around Peter’s sides, managing to tug his hips forward so his cock just barely brushes over his ass, Tony can feel the wet, warm trail it leaves behind and it draws a low moan from his chest.  
  
“Come on, kid. Don’t keep an old man waiting, that’s just cruel.” He smiles up at him, stretching back like a cat and feeling far more comfortable than he thought he would, especially considering the aching need radiating out from the centre of him. “Don’t stretch me too much. I want to feel you.” He’s- the words come a little unexpectedly, but it hits him with a sudden and overwhelming force how badly he wants to _feel_ this, remember it, have it push past the still remaining ache in his body from the last few days until it’s the only soreness he feels.  
  
“Don’t hold back. I’d rather have your bruises on me than anyone else’s, alright?” He knows asking him to be rough, specifically, might be too much for right now, but Peter is strong. He suspects it doesn’t have to be like that to leave him aching.  


* * *

  
  
Peter smiles as Tony tugs him forward, eager and relaxed and Peter feels the same way until Tony mentions leaving bruises and then a terrifying thought hits him.  
  
What if he hurts Tony?  
  
He pushes it down, doing his best to keep his hands steady as he pushes away just far enough to be able to squeeze a second finger into Tony. He can't let it show, doesn't want to ruin this for Tony because he's freaking out..  
  
“Just a little more..” He reassures when Tony whines and he's honestly not trying to tease him, as he suspects Tony is probably assuming. For once, he's just being careful.  
  
The impatient wiggle of Tony's hips is way more of a turn on than he'd ever thought it would be and god, he finally pulls his fingers out, hoping that he's stretched the man enough because he doesn't have it in him to wait any longer. He grabs the small squirt bottle from the dresser, only gone from between Tony's legs for a moment, but it's a moment too long and when he gets back in position, he's a little shocked at how completely _right_ it feels to be there.  
  
“Tell me if I hurt you..” Tony looks at him with an impatient glare as Peter slicks himself, warming the lubricant. “I'm serious, Tony. Please.” The man takes a deep breath and nods, agreeing, and it settles his nerves a little bit, though he's not sure Tony will follow through if he needs to.  
  
With his hands on Tony's thighs, he thrusts a couple of times, dick dragging along Tony's backside just enough for him to get a feel for it before he takes hold of himself. He's never been so nervous or scared in his life, but there's nothing in the world he wants more than to be inside Tony, to make him feel good and loved and wanted.  
  
He pushes forward as slowly as he can, but once he's slipped past the tight outer muscle, Tony's body starts to pull him in and he doesn't have the self control to fight it. He resists the urge to squeeze his eyes closed and give into the sensation, focusing instead on watching Tony's face, searching for any sign that he's uncomfortable, but all he sees is bliss.  
  
Leaning down, he takes Tony's lips in his, sighing at the overwhelming feeling of Tony all around him as he bottoms out, stilling. He brings a hand up to Tony's cheek as he kisses him, murmuring against his tongue.  
  
“Love you so much, Tony..” He circles his hips and Tony takes his bottom lip between his teeth, tugging it gently. “Fuck, feels so good..” His breathing is uneven, but he does his best to make sure Tony knows just how much Peter wants him- Wants to be with him, even after everything they've been through.  
  
When Tony's legs, wrapped around him, start to tighten, he kisses him one more time before he pulls back to watch the look on Tony's face when he thrusts into him for real and god, it's so worth it- All the stress and nervousness, just to see Tony throwing his head back against the pillow, eyes clenched shut in pleasure.  
  
The second time is even better, and the third is even better than that. Every time he presses into the man, his gasps get a little more harsh and his grip on Peter's shoulder gets a little bit tighter and he _knows_ that Tony is getting close even though they've just begun. He can't exactly blame him, the feeling of Tony squeezing around him, moving with him, is more than enough to have Peter on the edge of his own climax as well.  
  
Spurred on by the mangled moans coming from beneath him, Peter lets go of himself just a little, snapping his hips harder than before. Tony's fingers dig into his skin as he hisses and Peter is about to stop to check on Tony, to make sure he's okay, when the man curses at him to do it again.  
  
Peter does as he's told, putting more force behind his hips, the sound of his skin hitting Tony's echoing through the room and he lets out his own ragged sounds as he does it again, moving faster with each upshot.  
  
He screws his eyes shut against Tony's shoulder, focusing everything he has on his hands, using just enough extra strength to lift Tony's hips off the bed to meet his hips, jerking him in time with him. He almost feels bad about yanking Tony across the bed like a rag-doll, but the sounds of praise flowing from Tony's lips, as broken and chopped as they may be, encourage him to keep moving.  
  
When Tony reached down to stroke himself, Peter's grateful- Not wanting to stop or slow down enough to do it for him, his entire attention focused on drilling into him and he's getting so close that if Tony doesn't get there soon, he's not going to be able to continue.  


* * *

  
  
He expects the stretch of Peter’s cock to be painful, and it is, but more than that it feels intimate in a way he didn’t fully anticipate. There’s something strange about it, distinctly foreign like his body is trying to tell him that’s not how it’s supposed to work, but the sweet drag of him against his insides spurs heat under his skin in a way that’s new and deliciously impossible to ignore.  
  
It should make him feel vulnerable, and it does, to an extent, but more than that it makes him feel taken care of, loved, and Tony is absolutely _not_ going to cry during sex, but it’s not something he’s ever felt before to quite this extent. It’s forcing him to realize, consciously, just how deep his trust in Peter runs. He’s never felt anything so severe.  
  
His head drops back with a pleasured sigh, impossible to keep his eyes open as Peter bottoms out inside of him. When he slowly begins fucking into him earnestly and Tony abandons all shame, hands tightening over Peter’s shoulders. When the boy slows Tony immediately feels robbed of the faster, harder pace he’d only just built up to.  
  
“Jesus, why- don’t you dare fucking stop. Keep going, just like that.”  
  
Peter listens, dropping down into his shoulder and fucking up into him harder, faster. It’s enough to bruise and when he manhandles Tony into meeting his increasingly rough thrusts he can feel himself coming apart at the seams.  
  
“Ah-fuck. Peter, baby, I never- ah- didn’t think this would feel so good. You’re perfect, baby. I love your dick, so fuck- _fucking_ glad you’re the only one who’s ever fucked me, Peter. Wouldn’t want anyone else. Bet they wouldn’t be this good, anyways.”  
  
He can sense Peter’s strain so he reaches down to take himself in hand and he’s definitely already on the cusp of orgasm. All it takes is a few sharp thrusts in time with his hand to send him over the edge. He goes tense all over, fingers digging into Peter’s skin hard enough to ache as heavy heat washes over his body, leaving him limp and sticky.  
  
Peter’s shaking above him by the time he relaxes back into the bed, having fucked him through his orgasm without quite getting there himself and Tony brings his hands up to tangle in Peter’s hair, dragging him down for a kiss.  
  
“Come on, baby. I know you’re close, let go, Peter. I want it- Christ, I want it so bad. Make me yours.” Peter groans, sounding near pain in his pleasure, and Tony swallows the sound, licking into his mouth as Peter’s pace begins to falter, something more erratic taking over.  


* * *

  
  
“Make me yours.”  
  
God, Peter wants nothing more than for Tony to be his and only his forever and ever and the confirmation that Tony wants that too- That they belong to each other in every way is all he needs. He moans desperately into the kiss as his hips come to a jarring halt deep inside of the older man, emptying himself entirely before he collapses. He breathes hot air onto Tony's neck as he slides across his chest, both slick with sweat and Tony's come between them.  
  
“Oh, god- That was..” He can't quite catch his breath and he groans as he slowly slides out of Tony, feeling the man's body clenching around him, trying to pull him back in. Tony turns his head to look at Peter and he almost gets lost in his eyes, completely forgetting what he was saying.  
  
“Mine.” He drag his tongue across Tony's lips before slipping inside, kissing him slow and sensual. “You're all mine..” A feeling of possessiveness that he's never known floods through him as he thinks about how no one has ever been with Tony like that before and if Peter has any say, no one else ever will be. He turns Tony onto his side, weaving a knee between his legs as they both come down, hands lazily roaming each other's bodies as they kiss.  
  
Peter can hardly believe that it was only a few months ago that he was alone- He had nothing and no one. Now, he has everything he could ever want and more. He has his family and a real home. He has Tony- A man that's willing to give the entire world. He's not perfect and god knows neither is Peter, but they're perfect for each other and he makes a promise to himself right then that he'll never let anything come between them again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All is forgiven? :)
> 
> Also, ONE CHAPTER TO GO! Oh my gosh :D

**Author's Note:**

> Find us on tumblr ♥  
> Peter POV: [@thestigswritercousin](https://thestigswritercousin.tumblr.com/)  
> Tony POV: [@dirtybirdie](https://dirtybirdie.tumblr.com/)


End file.
